 
# Forever Begins

### Romance Series Starter Collection

## Victoria Pinder

# Copyright

Forever Begins

Copyright©2019

* * *

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemble to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

Your support of author's rights is appreciated.

Published in the United States of America.

Copyright © 2019 Victoria Pinder Love in a Book

All rights reserved.

### Contents

Secret Crush

Series Information

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Secret Baby Preview

Forbidden Crown

Series information

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Forbidden Prince Preview

Hidden Gabriel

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Tempting Gabe

Series information

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Irresistibly Lost

Series information

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Irresistibly Found Preview

Favorite Crush

Book Series

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Also by Victoria Pinder

About the Author

# Secret Crush
# Series Information

Please check out the entire House of Morgan Series and get caught up.

The House of Morgan

Secret Crush

Secret Baby

Secret Bet

Secret Wish

Secret Dad

Secret Heir

Secret Tryst

Secret Date

Secret Romeo

Secret Caress

Secret Match

Secret Bridesmaid

Secret Admirer

The House of Morgan Boxed Set 1-3

The House of Morgan Boxed Set 4-6

# Chapter 1

John Morgan loaded his Colt M4 Carbine assault rifle as he studied the mansion nestled in the Georgia hills. After a year of digging for information, Frank Hudson was about to be arrested.

His skin prickled as his team moved into position. He frowned and adjusted the rifle by the strap across the back of his FBI wind jacket so he had his hands free.

His cell phone buzzed in his jeans' back pocket. John checked it fast, surprised to see his brother's number. He turned off the ringer, deciding to call Peter once the mission ended. It had to be important for the heir apparent of the House of Morgan to call the spare son. John swallowed and shook his head. Normal families didn't call themselves a dynasty or the House of anything.

With his gaze narrowed, John focused on his job—to arrest his father's associate. Frank was dirty, and he might know more information about John's father, Mitch. Every arrest brought John one step closer to the evidence he needed against the man who'd raised him.

John tipped his chin and nodded at the four men set to break through the door.

His primary team and the local police burst into the house. John stayed back, gun ready, in case an associate of Frank's ran outside.

Agent Wolfson shouted, "FBI. Freeze."

John gestured for more men to enter the house.

No shots were fired.

Just as the surveillance read, Frank Hudson had been home with his wife, Beatrice, and his two adult daughters, Serena and Serenity, who were all used to the best in life and funded through money laundering. Women's screams rang in the air as the last of the law enforcement filled the house.

John tugged his baseball cap over his sandy blond hair and went inside with the third wave to ensure that Frank was in handcuffs.

John lowered his head so Frank might not notice who'd brought him to justice as he rushed in the door. He'd prefer to let the guys who didn't personally know Frank handle the arrest. John's moment would come later, during the interrogation at the station as he let his six foot two frame intimidate from the door.

He'd wasted too much time already. Mitch Morgan had killed his own daughter, John's sister, and he would prove it. Frank's arrest would help Victoria rest in peace, despite what Mitch had done to her.

John clenched his jaw. Unlike Mitch, it had been easy to learn about Frank, his habits, his quirks, his schedule. John's shoulders were tight as he turned into the living room.

Two team members stood over the older gentleman kneeling on the floor, hands cuffed behind his back, with tears in his brown eyes. He cried out to the other agents, "My lawyer will hear of this."

John scowled and shook his head. Frank was done, bringing John one inch closer to learning how deep the House of Morgan had buried itself.

He'd spent a year on this case, on his mission to bring down all of his father's connections. It was airtight. Frank Hudson's charity had laundered money to thicken his wallet. The older man gazed into John's eyes. "John Morgan, is that you?"

So much for waiting. John's spine straightened as he towered over the prisoner. Being the second son in the House of Morgan, who looked like Mitch, meant he'd always be recognized. He took off his cap and stilled. "Yeah, Frank. It's me."

"Why would you do this to me?"

John wouldn't give Frank any clues on this investigation for his lawyers to use. His body tensed as he slammed his fists on the coffee table. "Why did you break the law?"

The old man pleaded in a warbling voice, "John Morgan, I'm friends with your father. That should mean something." He said it as though he expected leniency, for John to look the other way. He imagined his father, twisting his ring as he waited for someone like Frank to bow to his hand.

The House of Morgan owned everyone and everything. His father taught him to never let emotions interfere with business. He chose to ignore how the women all sat in the dining room and focused on his target. John shrugged. "Who isn't a friend with dear old Dad?"

"I'll speak to Mitch, right after I speak to my attorney."

John's mouth curled into a sneer. Perfect. His old man _should_ know he was one step closer to uncovering his crimes. Then he turned on his heel. His footsteps echoed on the polished mahogany floors as John stepped out of the house and into the shadows of the trees outside. He'd interrogate Frank later.

He went to his car and started it up, driving to the local headquarters to report that Frank Hudson was in custody.

His brother's face played in his memory as John made the second turn onto I-285. What had Peter wanted? They hadn't spoken in years.

John's phone vibrated in his back pocket. He reached behind him and stared at Peter's name, again, as he placed it on the console. A coldness inched up his spine. Truthfully, he had no words to say right now. Peter was his father's right-hand man and could be guilty. He could also not be. He clenched the phone. If he didn't answer, he'd spend forever analyzing what Peter might have to say. "Hello."

"John."

Peter's voice struck at some deep memories he'd rather avoid. The back of his neck pinched. Peter had chosen Mitch's life. _I shouldn't have answered_. "Peter, I'm busy."

"Whatever you're doing can wait."

Once again Peter Morgan thought he could order him around. His left eye twitched. His older brother's forceful answer burned like acid through him. No one told him what to do. He sighed. "No, my life can't wait."

"Dad's dead."

John stepped on the gas and his car took off at high speed. "He's what?"

He took his foot off the accelerator and pressed his lips together. At least no other car was near him on the freeway.

John's heart raced as Peter spoke with crisp syllables. "Dad is dead."

Adrenalin shot through him, electrifying his body. He steadied the wheel. "I don't care."

"I don't either."

_No?_ Peter expected to be next in line and to inherit the entire House of Morgan. Then just as fast as the storm of emotions set off inside him, his body temperature cooled. Peter was too much like their father. John didn't trust him. He'd keep his words and sentences short. "So why are you calling me?"

"You should be at the funeral."

John rolled his eyes as he turned off of the 285. "Why? So you can pretend we have a family?"

"Victoria would want us to be together."

John's breathing hitched at the sucker-punch. Their dead baby sister deserved better than her name in the mud. Though he didn't need to say so, he did anyway. "Vicki's dead."

"I don't know how that happened."

John rubbed his forehead. Peter had to stop this conversation, now. No words could change any of the past. "You do, too. Dad did something to her. It's his fault."

"I don't know anything other than my sister died while I was away in grad school. You're my only brother."

What did their shared DNA have to do with the question? John's entire body stiffened—he needed to know the truth. "Peter, did you help Dad kill Vicki?"

"No, and if you have proof Dad did, then share."

John hesitated. There had never been any proof, just unanswered questions that were buried with a closed casket. Their father's death changed everything. "I'm working on it."

"Then you're too late. We're all that's left of the House of Morgan."

John let out a sigh. Peter was right, as he'd never learn the truth now. Then he swallowed back his bitterness. "You'll go straight to hell if you covered for Dad."

"I'm not involved. I loved her too."

Peter had been silent, distant, and even during childhood, always with their father, except when he took the heat for whatever John or Vicki had done. John lifted his chin, threw his baseball cap into the backseat, and turned his car into headquarters' parking lot. "What's the point of coming to the funeral? Dad and I had nothing to say to each other."

"You're not disinherited, despite how you intended to arrest him. Dad didn't care and even hoped you'd forgive him."

He parked the car, resisting the urge to check his hair in the rear-view mirror. All that mattered right now was booking Frank Hudson.

He shook his head. He'd never forgive, and Peter should never have, either. "How could you?"

"I never said I did. I never said anything."

Silence drove John away from trusting his older brother. He stepped out of the car, his every cell crawling with sweat. The humid air in Atlanta lacked the cool breezes coming off the ocean. "Peter..."

"Come back to Miami. There's nothing holding you there. Now that Dad's dead you can stop arresting all of his lowlife associates who will never darken our doors again."

"You knew?"

"Yeah. Dad knew too. There was nothing any of us could do to bring Vicki back. Come home."

John hung up and took the elevator to his office and picked up his report, then went to stand outside a conference room that overlooked Atlanta. Peter's call changed everything. John's boss, Special Agent Smith, waved him in.

This was it. John's throat was parched.

A part of him had failed. He'd never see Mitch Morgan in handcuffs.

Smith leaned back in his office chair, near the wall, and took his time. John stayed still and noticed the dead flowers on a cabinet in the corner of his office. Smith nodded at him. "You're on now, John. Go."

John's mind was in a daze. His skin felt clammy. He was supposed to give his report on white-collar crime statistics and an oral report on what happened at the Hudson estate.

His father's old friend had been taken down in this investigation, but no one had ever uncovered any evidence on Mitch Morgan. Now, he'd never find it. Dad was dead.

He rubbed his forehead. Then he slid the report across the table. "I can't do this right now."

"What's the matter, Morgan?" His boss clasped his hands together.

John swallowed and gazed into the older man's brown eyes. Special Agent Smith already hated him. John bet that his boss knew and expected the spoiled heir to return to his life of privilege. Pressing his lips together, he said, "My father is dead."

Smith's nose curled and his tone was the same he used when interrogating someone. "Your father owns more than half the corporate businesses in this country, and much of that came from illegal activities."

"We've never found evidence."

Smith pressed his hands on his desk. "He needs to pay for his crimes."

"You can't prosecute a dead man."

John placed his hands in his pockets as he quoted the law and perspiration trickled down his spine. "I have to go."

In his dark suit, Special Agent Smith stood and then crossed his arms. "Don't bother coming back."

Now that Mitch Morgan was dead, Peter was the heir, but John would likely inherit billions of stolen dollars. The House of Morgan was richer than 99.9 percent of the world's population with stock in oil production, electricity, computer intellectual property, banking, and every other investment a hundred years of savvy ancestors had made. John turned around at the door. Smith wasn't worth his time. He shrugged. "Does this mean I'm fired?"

"It would if I had anything on you." His boss glared at him as his face reddened. "You're useless to me now."

John's shoulders tightened. The FBI had been his purpose for years. He didn't know what to say. He held his jaw tight. Smith had never liked him on his team, but who understood Mitch Morgan better than his own son? They both knew where they stood. Despite the animosity, he couldn't be fired, not by Smith, not without cause, and there was none. John left. He'd be better off finding out about Frank's interrogation.

No one said anything to him on his way to the elevator. As he waited to leave the building, he texted Peter. _I'm coming home. I'll text my arrival time when I get to the airport._

Peter texted right back. _Take the private jet._

John shook his head. He walked into the elevator, hit the button for the first floor, and let his mind wander. He remembered his sister's tears the month before she died. He vowed to never let something like that happen to anyone else he loved.

The House of Morgan, which was how they were raised to say family, changed with her death. Despite being the spitting image of his dad, John would never be like his old man, though he'd go to his funeral.

It was a farce he needed to experience for himself.

As the elevator doors opened, he took one final look around the FBI headquarters in Atlanta. The pristine white building once commanded him to believe in justice at all costs. He coughed and realized he no longer believed that. He wasn't sure of his own purpose anymore, but Peter was right on one thing. He had nothing left at the FBI.

John put on his sunglasses to block the blinding sun and hurried out the door.

Today he'd go home. Then he'd figure out what he was supposed to do next. Vengeance left him empty and unfulfilled.

# Chapter 2

"You can't just ignore Mitch Morgan and his heirs and hope they don't come after you," Alice Collins explained to her mother as she stepped around the kitchen boxes and back into their old dining room. "The House of Morgan owns everything and our fruits are just part of the corporate machine."

"That's not fair." Ellie Collins only came up to Alice's shoulder, but she had the personality of a giant. She stopped packing her china in boxes, glared at Alice, and then crossed her arms. "Your father and I operate an independent farm and _we_ choose who buys our products."

Alice pushed her short blondish bob behind her ears and counted to five so she wouldn't yell. "And you and Dad chose to make money and sell everything with the Morgans' corporate chains. We even bank at the bank they are the majority shareholders of." Alice dropped the hand she had on her hip and brushed it down her black dress. "With Dad on the mend from his heart attack, I'll go to Mitch Morgan's funeral and pay our family respects in his place."

"You've done your hair and gussied up, which I don't understand. You shouldn't bother looking pretty for those boys. In fact, you shouldn't go at all." Ellie shook her head, like her decrees mattered. Done issuing her dramatic over-the-top orders, she reached down to seal the box with tape. "That family is nothing but trouble."

Alice inhaled as fire caught in her blood. "Mom, the wake and funeral will be on television. The President of the United States will be there. I can't go looking like a farmer."

"You should." Her mother dropped the tape onto the dining room chair already wrapped for delivery. The plastic cartridge bounced. Ellie pressed her hand against Alice's cheek. Alice expected a goodbye, but her mother said instead, "Be sure to kick over the casket and light a match to ensure Mitch Morgan's body burns in hell."

Alice stepped back. "You're being unreasonable. We hardly spoke to Mitch Morgan and his contract with our farm has been very lucrative."

"Your father had no choice but to sign." Her mother crossed her arms, again.

Alice shook her head. "No one forced Dad. He made a choice that made us all money."

Her mother pursed her lips. "He should have listened to me and never signed."

Alice rolled her eyes. "He did what he thought was right for us."

"You and Colt need to be smarter. I know your brother would agree with me that those contracts should die just like Mitch did."

Why was she bringing Colt into this? He understood that they never saw the Morgans anyhow, but the contract with them ensured they had a buyer for all their produce. Alice tried to keep her voice even as she said, "Dad trusted the farm to Colt and me after his heart attack. We will make the decisions about the farm and the contracts."

Her mother lifted her chin. "The renewal period is starting and now that Mitch is dead, don't coerce Colt into signing."

Alice held back her sigh. Once again her mother went over the top with her feelings on all things named Morgan. No one forced their father and no one would force her brother or her into any agreements. "You weren't always this ridiculous. As a child, I spent years with the Morgans. Vicki was my friend."

Ellie clearly wasn't done. Her arms crossed as if it was the only body posture she had today. "No, she wasn't your friend. You should have grown out of that."

"Grown out of what?"

"Your belief that Victoria Morgan was your friend."

Alice froze. Her fingers trembled and she reached up to clutch the best-friends-forever necklace Vicki had given her years ago. "Mom, stop. She's been dead for three years now."

Her mother's eyes misted. "I'm sorry. I just love my family and don't want you hurt."

Alice hugged her mother to forgive her, though she shouldn't have spoken ill of Vicki. It was time to pay her respects to her friend's family. Alice patted her mother's back. "You aren't half as mean as you claim to be when it comes to the Morgans. You'd never really kick over the casket."

"You have no idea about that. Mitch Morgan deserves whatever happens to him in the afterlife." Ellie pushed Alice's hair back. "And wipe that lipstick off your face so you don't look like a clown."

Ellie turned to look out the window, and Alice followed her gaze. The sky was a brilliant blue and the smell of ripe strawberries drifted into the house as the wind rustled the crops. Alice rubbed her arms. "Mom, soon you get to move into that new condo on the beach and go to those awesome 55-and-older parties every night."

Her mother gave a reluctant smile then nodded. "The beach is going to be great."

Alice was also moving out of this house to her own condo, though she doubted there were any events or activities she'd have time for other than work.

Now that her brother was getting married, Colt intended to raise his family here, so at least the farm would go on through them. This week Colt had ended his service in the Marines so he could take over the day-to-day farm work, while Alice used her college degree to manage the business aspects.

Alice glanced in the one hall mirror left on the wall near the front door and ensured she had no lipstick on her teeth. She said, "Mom, everything is going to work out. Be peaceful."

Ellie tilted her head. "Your father can't stay here and not try to help out and run the farm. It's hard for him."

"We have to do what's best for Dad's heart." Alice stepped beside her and took her hand. "Collins Organic Fruits will stay profitable and Dad can come visit, but he's not allowed to work."

Ellie's eyes became glassy. "Agreed."

Her niece chose that moment to bounce into the room. Blonde ringlets surrounding her angelic face bobbed as she carried her small brown teddy bear. Alice knelt down. "Come here and give me a hug."

Clara's little hands wrapped around her and the ever-present teddy bear. The scent of strawberries wafted into her nose. "You look so pretty, like my Barbie doll."

Alice smiled at the three-year-old girl. Her niece lived here with them while Colt was away. "I'll never be as sweet as you are, princess."

"Aunt Alice, will you take me for ice cream?" Clara's small hands circled her neck. Alice sighed. She'd rather spend the day with Clara than face the funeral, though she couldn't. Their family needed to stick together, despite what her mother said about the Morgans. Today, Alice would represent the Collins family. She'd ensure that Peter renewed the contract that guaranteed one hundred percent of the farm's items would be shelved in various stores throughout the nation and that her family would make money.

"I can't." Alice unwrapped herself from Clara's hug. She stood and fixed the strap on her black high heel. "I have to go to a wake on business."

Clara's baby blue eyes were wide and full of wonder. "What's a wake? Do you have to wake someone up and jump on the bed?"

"No, sweetheart, but that does sound fun."

Alice smiled and checked her dress in the mirror. John had been so shut down the day of his sister's funeral. Alice used to have a major crush on him. She'd not seem him in years. She fixed her earring. "Be good for Grandma."

Clara nodded and bopped her head to some imaginary music on her way back to the living room. Alice applied one more coat of lipstick. Finished, she packed her pocketbook. She heard her mother's tongue click against her teeth, but she ignored the sound.

At the door of their old house, Alice turned. The entire place was packed with boxes. All the walls were empty. It felt like she was leaving, almost like she'd never come back to her parents, though she had another week until she could move into her new condo. The bare walls held no sign of her childhood. "Bye, Mom."

With the first step onto the porch, the hot South Florida air warmed her skin. The smell of citrus eased her nerves. Naval season would be over in a month.

She headed to her white SUV, caressing the eighteen-carat gold necklace. Today she'd show up for the funeral out of obligation, and love of her dead friend.

Waiting for the air conditioner to cool her down, she reviewed her plan. Peter Morgan, the oldest, would likely take over and she'd deal with him for business. Her family needed to keep that contract with Morgan Enterprises—to lose it would be a death knell to the Collins farm, since the House of Morgan had their hands in almost everything. No other corporation would touch them if they were deemed unfit in any way. The Morgan bank holdings stretched far beyond the stores they invested in and she didn't want to answer the questions that might naturally arise if she ended with a bad rating.

She rubbed the back of her neck. The full blast of air cleared her mind and Alice drove down the dirt road headed toward the paved roads and Coral Gables, which would be an hour or more with traffic.

Tonight she'd stay at a hotel so she didn't have to do this drive twice. Perhaps she'd go to the spa for a massage to ease her tired muscles, a welcome change from packing boxes. The wake and the funeral would be spectacles in and of themselves.

* * *

At the funeral home, she drove past so many people in the press she wondered if this was a world premiere of a Hollywood movie and not a funeral for a business tycoon. Cameras took her picture in the car. Alice covered her face to avoid direct eye contact and slid into a parking spot.

Her heels clapped against the pavement as she hurried toward the funeral home, and the press called out for smiles. Alice cringed. Victoria had been a poster child for fashion and elegance, the friend who had taught her how to put on makeup. She was plain with hair that wasn't truly brown but not blonde either.

At the door to the funeral home, Alice stopped. Jennifer Gonzales, the television beauty, held Peter Morgan's arm like they were an item. Jennifer was always sharp with her insults. Alice swallowed. The two of them probably laid in bed together and made fun of the less fortunate, a.k.a. everyone who wasn't them. Alice never understood how sweet Victoria Morgan had such a friend as Jennifer.

Alice stood in line to say hello until she reached Peter and Jennifer. Peter was still speaking to whoever was in front of him in the line, but Jennifer tilted her head. "Oh, look, the help arrived."

Jennifer's beauty would someday melt off her face, and she'd be left an old, wrinkled hag. Alice bit back her retort, and smiled. "I came out of respect for Victoria. She was my friend."

Jennifer shrugged and gazed at her up and down. "Hard to remember what she saw in you. She died years ago. Did you buy that off a rack?"

"Most people do." Alice hugged her waist and chose to ignore anything else Jennifer said. She continued down the line despite her goose bumps. "Peter."

He glanced at her and then spoke to the man behind her in line, like he was someone important and she was not. She pressed her lips together and prayed this had no significance to her own contract renewal.

As she stepped aside, Alice's stomach knotted. Jennifer's jabs still ate at her, even now. Alice's mind reeled with memories of how Jennifer made her life hell back in school. Alice rolled her eyes every time she saw another telenovela starring that woman.

She turned the corner and walked straight into a wall of muscle. Hard arms wrapped around her waist and then steadied her. Alice stepped out of the man's embrace, though her legs were weak, and gazed upward. John Morgan leaned back, and her mouth opened in surprise. His hair was slightly darker now, though it still had strands of pale blond, but those piercing blue eyes, and his huge dimples, were the same. He had lost all pretense of boyhood. The man before her was gorgeous. He was two years her senior, but had never been this hot.

She swallowed and told herself that "they" would never happen. She was country and the Morgans were players in a game of "rule the world" with their banks. Alice steadied her feet as anchors because her head grew light near him. With bravado, she smiled. "John, it's been a long time."

At least she'd coughed out a sentence that made sense. She took a deep breath.

"Thank you for coming..."

It was clear he didn't remember her name. Alice sucked in her bottom lip, embarrassed. They'd spent hours together at Vicki's funeral, where he'd clearly tried to forget his past with numerous shots of whiskey. She sighed. "I'm Alice Collins. I was a friend of Victoria's."

"The tomboy." John smiled and showed twin dimples just on each corner of his mouth. "I heard what Jennifer said to you. Don't listen to her. You fill out a dress nicely."

At least someone liked her dress. John's face showed sophistication as he scanned the room, studying all the doors and windows. Her jaw clenched as she guessed he was either a cop or a mobster. In this family, was there any difference? She had no idea what to say or how to excuse herself. She was like a groupie with a rock star. His hand settled on her back and her body melted like butter. "Will you escort me to get a drink, Alice?"

Her lips wouldn't move. _Not good_. John Morgan wasn't supposed to be attractive anymore. She'd thought she was over her crush on the former high school football captain. She curled her arm around his. She tried to say something intelligible but instead she blurted, "Didn't you recognize me a minute ago?"

"From Vicki's funeral, but I tried hard to forget everyone in this city after that. You were the only other person genuinely upset. The only _real_ person there."

Alice understood. They progressed in step. "She wouldn't want you to suffer all your life."

"My father did something to her." He stopped at the bar. "I don't know what happened, but I haven't been able to forget."

Alice pointed to the Sauvignon Blanc. John tugged his ear and nodded to the waiter. She stared at him, unsure what to talk about besides the past. "There was nothing any of us could do. Vicki disappeared without a word and then she was dead."

"What do you remember about her?"

"Her kindness. And her laugh." Alice looked toward the room where a few heads of state gathered around Mitch Morgan in his practically royal casket. John's gaze contained a firestorm of emotion. She tilted her head. "You going in there?"

His expression turned hard and cold. Then he stepped backwards, but his stare never left his father's casket. The steely expression changed to fiery. "You can if you want."

She hugged her waist. She'd asked the wrong thing. Her heart fluttered near John, but she tried to act like an adult instead of a teenager. It was good to see him again. "I don't. I came out of respect for Vicki."

He placed his hand on her arm to lead her to an empty space along the wall. Her skin became alive as he said, "I came because Peter asked. He wants to pretend we're a happy family for the world to see. Look at him now. He's over there as the new king."

He leaned against the wall and let the throngs of people pass. She followed suit, standing next to him as she sipped her wine. "I assumed he was taking over. Did you want that job?"

John's entire body jumped as if she'd slapped him. "Hell no."

She gulped her sip fast. She kept saying the wrong thing. Inside his blue eyes was a kaleidoscope of emotion. Alice remembered that he used to be kind. She rubbed her lips together. "Then who cares?"

He drank his wine and scanned the room. After making the rounds with his gaze, he took in her entire figure with an intensity that made her knees weak. "What is it you do, Alice?"

"Collins Organic Farm." She brushed her brown bob behind her ear. "I work for my family. What is it you do?"

Again, his blue eyes flashed as if lightning was in his stare. She watched him, hypnotized. "I work in real estate."

"Liar." She tilted her head. He definitely didn't work in real estate. She crossed her arm around her chest. Without another word, she waited for the fallout of her remark.

His eyebrows quirked in shock. Then his dimples appeared. "What do you think I do?"

She met his smile with her own. "Professional bad boy and poker player. It's what I always thought."

He chuckled. "I played football."

She nodded. A moment of silence clung in the air as she sipped her drink. Then she said, "I went to your games in high school, but I also remember how you set up more than a few poker games. You always read people correctly."

His sexy smile lit the room and her skin melted, literally fused into itself. "I remember that. You cheered with my sister, and I played you, too."

Perhaps she shouldn't spend the funeral with John, but then again Vicki's older brother could be a good friend to have in her corner for help with the contract. "You did. I'm glad you remember more than just us talking at funerals."

His gaze went past her and flashed toward the casket. He stood straighter and it seemed as if a dark cloud passed over him. His face hardened. "I also remember how my father came to my room as I did homework, handed me a million dollars in cash, had me hold it and touch it—and then he took it away and told me to earn it myself."

She tilted her head. "So did you?"

He clenched his jaw and lifted his chin as if he expected to be hit in the face. "Absolutely not."

She reached out to his arm and squeezed his biceps. "Good. I was always attracted to bums, so you'd fit right in."

Had she just said that out loud... at a wake? Her face was hot. She must have turned beet red.

His dimples appeared again. "Alice, stick to my side tonight. I don't think I like most of the other people here."

"Deal." She finished her wine. "I'd like for us to be friends, and not just people who meet at funerals."

He sighed. Without an answer, he took her empty glass, and placed it on the table next to his. He then turned and leaned closer. "Alice, you're the only woman here who hasn't looked at me with dollar bills in her eyes. Protect me from the vultures."

His right side brushed against her. Her mind turned to pudding. "Glad to be of help, John."

He sucked in his breath. His energy changed as he stood taller. "Here comes Peter."

She also stood straighter and stopped leaning against the wall. She nodded. "You'll need to talk to him."

He clasped her wrist and she froze. His touch hypnotized her. All she could do was stare at him as he said, "Don't leave my side."

If he held her hand, then she'd lose whatever was left of her mind. It was so inappropriate to be lustful at a wake. Her body disagreed. He took her hand and kept her close as Peter approached. It was strange. Victoria's brothers were very different. Peter's dark hair, brown eyes, and six-foot-three figure had muscles, but his presence left Alice cold and indifferent. She couldn't read him, but with John it was entirely different. Her skin electrified when he touched her arm. She swallowed. His lighter hair, blue eyes, and sexy dimples were all she'd ever dreamed about.

John leaned back against the wall and whispered to her, "He's up to something."

She didn't speak as Peter stopped in front of them. Neither of the men said a word to each other. They just stared.

Alice licked her lips and tried to understand what the silence meant. This might be the first time either of them had seen each other since the last funeral, though she couldn't be sure. Peter gazed at her fingers entwined with John's. "We should talk."

"Now?" John asked. His grasp remained firm. "I'm getting reacquainted with an old friend."

Peter nodded. "You'll be here for the reading of the will in a few days?"

John shrugged. "Sure, as long as Alice here keeps talking to me."

"Keep him here." Peter turned toward her. "Your contract depends on it."

John let go of her hand. Alice's heart ached as if she'd just been unmasked as some kind of fraud. She stood next to John as Peter stormed off.

John stood straighter and stiffened in front of her eyes. "Contract?"

"My family's produce gets sold in supermarkets around the country because of our contract with Morgan Enterprises. They are our biggest buyer."

John's face became unreadable as his cold veneer cut through whatever warmth was between them. He shook his head. "The House of Morgan owns everyone and everything. I'd hoped you were different."

Her eyes threatened to tear from the sting in his words, but Alice was no longer a shy girl from high school, and she wouldn't act that way. John started to walk away. She placed her hand on her hip and shouted after him. "John Morgan, don't you dare sit in judgment of me and my family. We work hard every day for what we produce and we're proud of it. What have you ever done?"

John stopped, turned. His gaze stayed on her for several beats. Then he stormed down the hall like he'd been stung by an entire swarm of wasps. She rubbed her arms. Unsure what to do, she retreated inside the vestry. She'd come to this affair to be seen, and it was time she knelt at the altar to get her picture taken, just like every other person here.

John Morgan could rot. Her crush on him died today, finally. She hadn't seen him since the day her best friend was buried, and there was clearly a good reason to stay far away. Self-absorbed jerks didn't deserve her time.

# Chapter 3

The sweet smell of vanilla and strawberries dissipated as John pushed away from the group of people that surrounded him. He searched for Alice, who stood in the hall with many other people, all there for the farce of a wake. If he went back to her, the scent would return.

Everyone stared at him as they took seats in pews in the viewing room. After Vicki's death, he swore he'd never step foot inside this place again. His shoulders tightened. Baskets of flowers nearly obscured the casket. He gulped as his hands became fists. He marched toward his father's casket. The former President stood aside. The coast was clear.

In death, would his father's face be peaceful? More human? John's mind reeled on that one question. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. Mitch Morgan would never pay for any crime he'd committed now. Death had freed him from the consequences, not that John should be surprised.

His throat was parched. He turned back toward the hall to see Alice, rubbing her arms and hugging her waist—which he'd realized was a nervous habit—in conversation with Jennifer. Alice wasn't happy, but then he wouldn't want to talk to Peter's girlfriend either. Perhaps he'd been too judgmental with Alice earlier.

Of all Vicki's friends, only Alice had a smile which promised picnics and a home, complete with a rug and fireplace.

Right now she was the only thing that beamed any light into this place. He walked ahead until he saw Mitch Morgan.

The expression on his father's face as he lay in the casket read in his mind like "suckers". He'd assume multiple Presidents would be here, and that his son would show up too. Once again, Mitch Morgan won, just as he always did.

The rocks in his stomach churned. John leaned toward his father's corpse and whispered, "I guess Vicki avenged her own death. I'm happy someone, even if it was yourself, brought you down."

Souls might not go into the depths of fiery damnation, but if anyone deserved it, his father did. John stood up, seeing that he was alone. _No one had heard._ John swung around. His gaze met Alice's in the hallway. Her blue eyes held concern, but then she turned away.

A life with someone like her would be so different from everything he'd known. She'd guessed he'd turned out to be a professional poker player. He tugged on his ear. Alice seemed genuine, a rare diamond amongst the dark coals.

His hands curled into fists at his sides. The tension in his neck sent pains down his spine. He had to get away from these people, from this place, from his father. He took a step toward Alice, to apologize, but Peter overshadowed her standing at the door of the hall.

Now wasn't a good time to talk with him. John saw Peter's gaze shift to their father's casket. It must be his turn to say goodbye.

John stepped aside. He'd talk to Peter about this charade later. There was absolutely no way he'd stay at the mansion or in that house listed under his name that his father bought him. Tonight he'd disappear to a hotel nearby.

Tomorrow's funeral would be harder.

He watched as Alice excused herself from Jennifer and walked into the ladies room. When Jennifer wasn't smiling for an audience, her scowl seemed permanently embedded on her face.

Memories and old opinions flooded his brain. John needed fresh air to breathe. He strode past Peter and into the hall. A few minutes later, he found Alice talking to the last President as she clutched the pendant of her necklace.

At least Alice would have a story to share with her future children about meeting a former President. Most people John had met these past few years turned green and averted their eyes when he mentioned weekend stays at the White House. His neck tingled as he turned away to head to the door.

At Vicki's funeral, Alice had been sad, though she found time to check on him. Before he left for the early evening, he'd talk to her one more time.

Outside, the hot Florida sun beat down in the parking lot. He stepped into the crushing humidity, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. Here, he could think. He took off his jacket, but stilled as leaves crunched in the distant woods. He narrowed his gaze. If someone wanted to hurt them, they'd hide there.

It had to be the Secret Service keeping watch. His FBI badge weighed down his pants. Responsibility tore at him as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and took his gun from the slim side holster, revealing the badge clipped to the top of his slacks.

That life seemed over now. Miami, despite all its problems, was home. He'd needed change.

He'd think about this later. First, he'd go back in to talk to Peter and then he'd find a good drink to calm him down. The hotel had a bar. With luck, he'd be there soon. Tequila.

The hot, sticky sun made his palms moist. He put his gun in his back holster and untensed his fingers. He hadn't realized he was this wound up. He rolled his shoulders and tried to calm his thoughts.

The FBI had no more place in his life.

His father had once said he'd be a business failure. John fixed his tie and buttoned his suit coat to ensure his gun was hidden. It was time to prove him wrong.

From outside in the middle of the parking lot, he looked into the lobby. A young man was speaking to Alice. A blush stained her cheeks as she smiled at him.

Something ate at his gut as he headed back toward the funeral home.

John stopped walking when his phone rang and he took it from his back pocket. Fire spread through his veins as he read his caller ID and saw his boss's name. "Hello."

Smith asked in sharp, clipped words, "Where are you?"

This was another reason to change. His new boss was a complete jerk. He started walking again, the parking lot at his back. "I'm at my father's wake."

His hands itched and he noticed a dark smudge of residue from handling his gun on his thumb and fingers. He wiped it clean on the hem of his suit coat while his other hand held his phone to his ear as Smith said, "We need you back here, now."

Goosebumps grew on his arms. John's gut told him to check everything and everyone out, but he let it go. He leaned against the funeral parlor door, intending to go back in as soon as he ended the call. He'd told Alice about the million-dollar offer from his dad, which had been his reason to avoid business.

His foot tapped against the door. He'd realized then that his father would control him through money, just like he did Peter. Mitch Morgan expected nothing from him, which had always suited him fine.

Now that Mitch was dead, perhaps he could prove that he understood accounting better than anyone expected. He transformed his millions into one and a half billion dollars from investing without truly caring if he lost it all. He never lost, though. The idea lightning-rodded in his mind that he could now prove he fit his last name. His fingers itched to begin something new. "I told you I was taking a two-week break. I have enough earned leave."

"Bereavement is meant for those who actually cared about their family." Smith sounded spiteful.

Alice, who he saw through the door was still talking to the same man, was the opposite. Years ago, she'd grieved with him over Vicki. The late afternoon heat on his back pushed him to go inside. He swallowed.

Special Agent Smith was unnecessary. The man had been rude the moment he'd been assigned to the Georgia office. "You have no idea what I'm feeling."

Alice noticed him from behind the glass window. The guy she stood with stared back and forth between them. John recognized him from high school, but his name escaped him.

Then his boss yelled, "Your brother will be knee-deep in whatever caused you to hate your dad."

Peter might be. John didn't trust him, but he wasn't the one who killed Vicki. At worst, he'd covered up for their dad. Now wasn't the time. He broke the visual connection with Alice. "Now, I don't know that. So how would you?"

"It's obvious."

His boss's words were the final straw. "No. I wish it was." John's muscles tightened in readiness as he turned away from the glass, patting his concealed weapon. "I'm resigning."

His boss didn't try to hide the derision in his voice. "It took twenty-four hours for the money to call you back in."

He held his head high. John's memory flashed to Alice's blue eyes that shone brighter than the sun. Then his shoulders tightened. "Whatever. I'm through with the FBI."

"Rich kids like you should never have been allowed in _my_ office anyhow."

The ringing sensation in his ears along with the fluttering of relief in his chest told him he'd done the right thing. He kept his feelings about his boss to himself. He had nothing in Atlanta or anywhere that was in his small apartment. He had no reason to return. "I'll come in to drop things off when I'm done here."

"Don't bother. I'll send an agent."

A weight lifted off his shoulders. He widened his stance. "Great. Makes my life easier."

John ended the call. In one conversation, he'd changed. He texted the Morgan cleaning service to open his house for him and settle in there. Turning back to the entryway, John saw Alice through the rectangular glass smiling at whatever the man said. John opened the funeral home doors and strolled into the cold air conditioning. The chill made life possible in the subtropics. John chuckled to himself. His father was like the humid air, a blanket of smothering, oppressive heat that had suffocated his life.

Without that weight, John was a different person.

People stared at him, a member of the House of Morgan, but he didn't care.

Alice left the man she'd been talking with and stood next to him. "Are you okay, John?"

He stopped laughing. She must think him crazy. Her flawless skin glowed against her smooth brown hair, angled at her chin. No one ever seemed so sweet. "Yeah. Alice, we have to talk later, if that's okay."

Her lips pressed together. "We'll see."

That sounded like he was dismissed, but she was too polite to say so. John stared at the other guy who waited for her as he held two glasses of wine.

Emptiness filled him as Alice went back to her friend.

John's back straightened as Peter approached. Perhaps his boss at the FBI was easier to talk to than his brown-eyed, too-serious brother. Peter stopped in front of him. "John."

This was a conversation he wanted to avoid, but knew he couldn't. He hesitated as heaviness settled in his stomach. "Peter."

His brother hesitated too, his gaze going to Jennifer who took a step toward them, but Peter shook his head. Then he swallowed and asked, "Can we go somewhere to talk for a minute?"

They had nothing good to say to each other. They never had, but Peter approached a side room and John followed. Peter standing next to Mitch at every "family" meeting replayed in his memory. His brother, the model son, rarely said anything. John closed the door behind them in a small room with no windows.

_This was too much_. John ran his hand through his hair and sat in the chair across from his brother. "Am I here for this event so we can play perfect family?"

"No." Peter stared at him but said nothing else.

John swallowed as his heart raced. "Then why? Because Dad wanted me for this?"

"I wanted you here. The will reading is in a few days."

"How exciting for you." John pursed his lips. Everyone knew Peter would inherit the company. He'd get whatever second sons get, and nothing else. John fidgeted with the keys in his pocket as he wondered if he took a position in Dad's companies, then he might prove their father wrong about him.

"This was never what I wanted," Peter said.

_Yes it was._ Peter had earned every penny of his inheritance.

Part of John wanted to shout that he'd start his own business, but then he realized that Peter wasn't their dad. He owed him no explanations. John held back his thoughts and fiddled with the top button of his shirt. "Are you sure you care one way or the other? We don't have to play happy home life. I know I don't want to."

Peter rolled his shoulders, his eyes wide. "So we continue to be rude? It's not like we know each other."

Someone knocked at the door. John loosened his tie. The room was suffocating. Peter stood up and walked across the room. Jennifer whispered, "The President has arrived and you need to greet him."

Peter nodded, but then he silently dismissed his girlfriend. John wondered if he'd be dismissed like that once whatever Peter wanted was done. Peter closed the door. Without a word, he sat back down.

John leaned forward. "That's absolutely true. We don't know anything about each other."

"You went to work for the FBI."

John inhaled. Despite how he was in college and Peter was away in grad school, their father confided and trusted only in Peter. He was the heir and Peter kept their father's secrets. John assumed their father told him about John's FBI career, but then again perhaps they only noticed him because of the multiple arrests he'd made of Mitch's colleagues. Peter sat back in his chair as John nodded. "I did. I wanted to arrest Dad. Should I have gone after you?"

"I didn't kill Victoria. I miss our sister as much as you."

John winced. Score one for Peter. Then he reclaimed his righteousness. "Why bring her up now?"

"She's why you joined the FBI."

There was no reason to deny anything. John said, "True. She was the only one who treated me as family."

His brother shifted his weight as he averted his gaze. "I never knew how to ... we never spoke the same language."

John redid his tie. In a moment they'd go back out. "No, you were always off with Dad."

"I did whatever he wanted, but I wasn't allowed to do most of what you did."

He re-crossed his legs. No one would feel sorry for Peter. John simply said, "I guess we all have our issues."

"I'm worried Father left things to you."

_Like what?_ At least this was the truth and the real reason Peter wanted him here. John's shoulders tensed. Was Peter concerned that there was an off-chance he wasn't the crown prince? John stood up. "Whatever it is, I'm sure I don't want it."

Peter stared at the door and not at him. "I've never had a secret life, y'know. I'm not like you."

The FBI and football were hardly a secret. His family never came to any games, even if he was featured in the newspaper. His father and brother were always too busy for trivialities like that. Mitch disowned him once John joined the FBI. Red-hot fire rushed into his blood. "You could have left Dad in the dust years ago to do your own thing."

The _tsk_ in his brother's voice echoed their father's. John's lip curled as Peter said, "While you were outside playing football, I was stuck inside making sure Dad's books were balanced."

Perhaps there was another side to their story, but feeling sympathy for Peter? He crossed his arms. "You could have come outside."

"No, I couldn't. If I didn't comply, he'd have gone after either you or Victoria, leaving none of us the option for fun."

John froze. Peter had no right to talk about their sister as if he was protecting her. He hadn't cared what happened. "You weren't some hero. Vicki's dead, just like our mom."

"I don't want to bring her up," Peter said. "Mom didn't die. She walked out the door and never came home."

John lifted his chin. Peter sounded like their father, and he'd not let his guard down. No, now was not the time. He refused to share his plans with Peter and argue with his brother about the past. He looked at his watch. In twenty minutes, whoever Peter hired to speak would start. Their father didn't have one person here who truly mourned for him. He glanced at the door. "We should go. Why aren't you speaking?"

"Why aren't you?""

Did you need me to answer that?"

Peter nodded. "The funeral is tomorrow. That's where my strengths have to be. I am glad you're here."

John stilled. Strengths were for important matters. "Why? Are you giving the eulogy then?"

"Someone has to. You have every right to speak if you want."

_No._ Peter was welcome to pretend to care, but if John spoke he'd accuse his father of murder in front of the enormous crowd. John refused to be that spectacle. His father didn't deserve that he humiliate himself on top of everything else. "Absolutely not."

Peter breathed deep and got to his feet. "Then it has to be me."

Standing as well, John shook his head, his hand on the door. "No, it doesn't. The church can be silent or we can just let the President have his say and whoever else wishes to tell us how Dad was a wonderful, salt-of-the-earth type of guy."

Peter's dark eyebrows quirked. "Salt of the earth? Who would say that?"

He smiled. At least Peter wasn't a complete fool. "I'm sure someone."

Peter lowered his face and kept his voice low. "I'm tired of fighting, John."

They never spoke, so they never fought. John pressed his lips together. Peter had a plan. He shouldn't care, but what if his brother was telling the truth? John opened the door. "Me, too. I'm not staying for the hired performer tonight. I'm exhausted. Bye."

Peter walked behind him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

John's gaze landed on Alice as she slipped out the front door. He sighed. The only light in this place was now gone. John stared at the room full of strangers as Peter walked away with his girlfriend on his arm. John's hands clenched. He'd show up tomorrow. Whatever Peter thought their father might bequeath him left him with nothing but guesses.

# Chapter 4

Alice picked up her phone and then put it down. She'd call her mother after she checked into the hotel. She handed over the SUV keys to the valet and ignored his nose curl. She'd still tip the man, but so what if she didn't drive a Maserati like the customer behind her?

She filed the paperwork and tucked her phone in her purse as the late afternoon sky suffocated the air. Her mother had told her to call right after the wake, but if she dialed, Ellie would chirp louder than the wild parrots in the palm trees above her head. Ellie Collins could wait.

The tropical paradise of this deluxe hotel offered a stark contrast to the funeral home. The clear blue sky with spots of white clouds and happy birds in palm trees helped steal the tension from her body.

She strolled past the fountain and into a marble-floored lobby. The Biltmore was iconic old Miami, built in the 1920s with lofted ceilings, an inner courtyard famous for its outside seating, unlimited Bellinis for Sunday brunch, and one of the best spas in the country. Her heels sank into the plush red carpet as she walked toward the mahogany desk to check in.

She gazed through the French doors to the outside tropical paradise which enticed her with the sound of bubbling water. For one night, she was living it up, and she intended to take a long swim in the morning in that perfectly blue pool.

A dip in the waters would help her forget all about John Morgan and that wake. Tonight, she'd dream that John Morgan's lips touched hers. Of course they hadn't, but her lips tingled with a long-ago high school memory.

Her mother would tell her to never see or think about John Morgan. Ellie had serious issues with the House of Morgan that extended to all of their children. Mom hadn't even been sad when Vicki died. Instead she'd been stoic and not said a word as Alice cried that her childhood friend was dead.

She sighed. Perhaps she needed to think of happier moments.

Above her head the pillars to the high, painted ceilings overwhelmed her sense of awe. This place smelled like money, which was strange for her, since Alice needed to budget.

With a nose twitch, she shook her head and realized _that_ thought came from Jennifer's little jab about her black dress. Normal people budgeted and, once in a while, splurged. The super starlet didn't get to judge her life.

She reached the desk and waited for the man behind it to finish his phone conversation and then speak to her.

Finally his gaze met hers as he ended his call, and she told him, "I'm checking in. Alice Collins."

"Ms. Collins." Another man behind the counter stepped forward as the original clerk stepped back. He wore a red uniform, but his was more formal. The clerk stepped aside, and the hotel manager with a pin on his name badge waved his hand to his right. "We're happy you chose our hotel for your overnight stay. There is a gentleman here to see you."

Impossible. Her dad was in Homestead packing up his house, and her brother was still in the Marines. As that was the extent of the men in her life, she shook her head, "A gentleman? Who is he?"

"I'm not at liberty to answer, ma'am."

"Did you ask what he wanted?"

He averted his gaze. "It wasn't my place."

She swallowed. With a thump, she released the handle of her black rolling suitcase and leaned on the counter. "And you didn't get his name to share with me?"

"I cannot say."

It had been a tiring day. She kept her tone even and said, "So he could be some crazy person."

"I assure you, he's not."

Clearly she wouldn't get anywhere with this manager. She crossed her arms and stepped backwards. "I don't want to go meet strange men. I'd like to just check in, please."

The man's expression fell, but Alice stood tall. The manager typed into the computer and said, "Your room won't be available for another hour. I'm very sorry, miss."

How convenient. She wasn't fooled. "How much did this man pay you to get me to talk to him?"

The clerk averted his face and stared at his computer as his manager said, "I don't know what you mean."

Lies didn't invoke trust. She pressed her lips together. "Of course you don't. It was only perfect timing."

He stayed silent.

There was no other choice. She was in no danger except being annoyed with whoever delayed her. "If I go, will my room be ready sooner?"

"I will see to it that your room is ready upon your return."

She narrowed her stare until he flushed. "Sure, okay. If anything happens to me, I'll sue and own this place."

The man smiled like she'd just saved his life or the life of someone he loved. "Of course, miss, you will most assuredly be fine."

She snapped her fingers at her sides. _Of course_. She let out a breath she hadn't known she held and followed him outside to the Cascade Patio near the pool. Metallic chairs were filled with people lounging by the blue waters, but she didn't recognize anyone. If it was a stranger, she'd run the other direction.

Without warning, her escort stopped near the bar. She scanned the area for someone she knew. Then her heart contracted as she stared into the blue eyes of John Morgan.

Her spirit lifted. _He_ had asked for her. She had no idea why. Their last conversation made it seem like he'd never speak to her again. He'd been rude an hour ago, but it was hard to remember what happened as he gave her that gorgeous smile.

John stood up as she walked toward him, and her heart skipped a beat. His broad shoulders and open smile invited her to throw herself into his arms. He wore the pants he'd had on for the wake, and a white shirt that was now unbuttoned a few notches. The shirt melded to every hard muscle of his body. Along his travels to the hotel, he'd lost the jacket and tie, amplifying pure masculinity.

She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but no words formed. Refusing to act like an idiot, she inhaled and forced herself to sound normal. "I didn't expect to see you."

He kept his hands to his sides and offered a small smile without the dimples. "I am sorry, Alice. I was rude and I wanted to tell you that in person."

With a lift of her chin, she focused on her questions and not on how her mind went blank near him. "How did you know I was here?"

"After you left, I talked with Mr. Soliz and he told me."

He was so tight in the shoulders. Her gaze honed in on the slight bump from a break of his nose during a football game. "Mr. Soliz? You mean Rafe? We went to school with him."

"I thought he looked familiar, but didn't remember from where."

Figured. She stood on her tiptoes to get him to look her in the eye. It was time he stopped forgetting about the past. "What _do_ you remember?"

"That I was angry at my brother, and myself, for being at the wake. I was rude to you, and I came to apologize."

With words like that, she'd fall to his feet in worship. He didn't have to say them. Her body melted a little that he did though, and she smiled. "Your dad just died. You're easily forgiven."

With a nod he said, "It's not your fault that my family bought you off."

Alice winced but then relaxed. How misguided his opinions were—misguided and wrong. She kept her voice even. "When someone signs a business contract to sell in the market, it makes them partners. It's called the _free_ market, not the slave market."

Outside the bar someone splashed at the pool beyond the window. John's shoulders slumped. "And my family takes advantage to control the free part."

She tilted her head. He apologized for the entirely wrong things, but now wasn't the time to sound like a harpy. "Now that _is_ true, but I don't blame you for that. No one forced my family into any contracts to make money. What offended me at the funeral parlor was how you acted as if you couldn't be bothered with someone who did business with _your_ family. We were friends, John. Never think I'd betray anything you'd ever say or do."

"I didn't. Not really." His gaze remained full of judgment, but then she might be reading him wrong. She swallowed as he said, "I tend to jump to the worst conclusions when it comes to my family's business policies. I apologize. Would you like a drink?"

"No, thanks. I want to know you're okay."

"Why do you care?"

"You're Vicki's brother." Her chest tightened and she rubbed the back of her neck. Why not tell him the truth? Neither of them were children and she'd never see him again once the funeral was over and he went back to wherever he was from. "I went to your football games because I had the biggest crush on you then."

"A crush? You? Alice, I didn't know." His face softened and the outlines of his dimples puckered his cheeks.

Sexiness was no reason to fall apart. She straightened the hem of her dress, wishing she'd worn something sexier—though he'd told her earlier that she filled out her dress just fine. "Now you do. It was a long time ago."

He appeared caught off guard by her declaration. She looked into his deep blue eyes and he took a step backwards. "Because of my family money?"

"No. Don't be rude again." Her heartbeat was so rapid that she feared losing her ability to speak but she fought through because she needed to finish what she'd started. She held the back of her bar stool. "Because you never treated me like a peasant that your sister brought home from the streets."

His smile faltered as he studied her. She felt like an ice cube that had been out in the sun too long. For relief, she stepped into the shadows as he then said, "Alice, you went to school with us. Your family is far from the peasant class in any century."

The oranges up north ensured that her family stayed millionaires as long as the farm stayed productive. She blinked. "Not everyone in your family agrees."

He softened his voice. "Peter?"

_Guessed right the first time_. His brother had said that her contract depended on getting John to the funeral. She coughed and then stared back at him. "Yeah."

His shoulders relaxed as he stepped closer to her with a genuine smile on his face. "I'm glad I asked the concierge to bring you to me."

Unsure how she became so lightheaded so fast, she hung onto her chair. The air around her smelled like cedar and pine trees and John. She hoped she'd get the thump of her heart under control before she lost her precious control. "Is that what this was? I thought I was summoned."

"Summoned? I can't command anything from you. You can go if you wish." The last thing she wanted was to leave his side.

Then he offered his arm. "I hope you'll stay, though. I don't want to spend the night alone. I just spent the evening with people I no longer wish to know, and I could use your company."

Heat rose to her cheekbones and she'd have bet she was blushing. All her life, she'd dreamed John would be hers. To build a wall, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I'm not inviting you into my room, if that's the implication."

"No." He smiled at her. His warm gaze sent her heart into a tizzy. She dropped her arms to her side as he said, "I was hoping you'd have dinner with me here, and maybe a drink. I have a suite on the thirteenth floor."

A drink and dinner with her Prince Charming. She must be dreaming. Maybe she should throw caution to the wind for one night with John. She was an adult now, and her reactions to him sent her body into overdrive. The House of Morgan always controlled the deck of cards, but soon enough he'd be gone back to wherever he came.

In the future, she'd still be here and end up married to someone who could tolerate farm life. This night might be all she'd ever get of John Morgan. She shrugged her shoulders. "If you are afraid of bad luck or Al Capone's hauntings, you might want to change floors."

"Nope." John held out his hand. "Will you hang out with me tonight?"

Hang out was far too tame for her thoughts. Alice brushed her fingers down his thin, long-sleeved shirt, until she reached his hand. Her flesh seemed electrified. If he touched her bare skin, she'd wrap her arms around him, wanting to see every part of his body. This neediness was so unlike her. She wanted to agree with anything he said when she usually questioned everything. "Sure. Let me go change. Meet you here in an hour?"

At least she sounded normal. Earlier she couldn't even do that. She leaned into him as he said, "Perfect, and thank you."

She tilted her head. "For what?"

His dimpled smile drew her into a dream as he said, "For forgiving me so fast."

The wake seemed a long time ago now. "In the House of Morgan, no one taught you to let things go?"

The _no_ he gave when he shook his head didn't match the humorous gleam in his eyes. "No, that wasn't one of the lessons."

She turned to leave the bar, but peeked behind her. John watched her and his muscular body combined with those blue eyes and dazzling smile triggered something deep inside her. This was her fantasy coming true, so she'd enjoy every moment until it was over. "Well then, welcome to Alice's worldview tonight. You might regret this tomorrow."

He winked at her. "Somehow I doubt it."

With a spring in her step, she sashayed from the pool and picked up her room key and bag. John said hang out, but this was one night where she could pretend to be Cinderella. Alone in the elevator, she licked her lips and wondered what John's kiss would taste like. She'd bet it was tastier than the freshest strawberries from their fields.

# Chapter 5

Once inside the elegant hotel room, Alice picked up her phone and stared at the screen. Her mother had called. She rolled her shoulders. No, she'd not report in—she chose to let it charge instead.

Tonight she had her fantasy date with John. Her dreams mattered too. She wouldn't let anyone's opinion sway her, especially since it concerned a Morgan.

Adrenaline pumped in her veins as she rushed around the room to get ready. Out of her two dresses, she chose the silky black one with the lower neckline and would keep the sweetheart with the flared hem for tomorrow. Her just-in-case-something-happened backup dress was now her date dress.

She'd packed two pairs of underwear. If she wore the lacy silk ones tonight, tomorrow she'd be at the funeral in her plain cotton panties that might show a line across her backside. The cameras wouldn't focus on her, so she chose the sexier pair. Tonight she was the star. Tomorrow, she'd keep her hands to her sides and slink into a pew.

She fixed her hair as straight as it could in this humidity. At the mirror, she ensured her makeup was flawless. Everything had to be perfect.

Satisfied with how the neckline revealed her assets, Alice stared at her necklace. The Tiffany gold that Victoria gave her somehow glowed brighter. Should she take it off? Would her friend be upset if she slept with John? So she asked, "Do I have your permission to go out with your brother?"

Alice's face grew a wicked grin as she imagined Vicki saying, _Please take him off my hands._

Vicki'd had a sense of timing and had known what to say to everyone. She left the necklace around her neck. Alice always asked herself WWVD, which meant what would Vicki do, if she ever found herself shy. Done, she turned away and grabbed her pocketbook. With confidence in every step, she left her room.

Tonight was never going to be forever, so she could be someone she wasn't. Tonight she was flirtatious and fun, not studious and reserved.

This hotel, a blend of art deco of the 1920s meets ancient Italian villa, was one of the finest in the country. The paintings on the wall promised a fairy tale where fantasies came true. Exquisite angels etched in the walls watched over her as she called the elevator to take her down to the lobby.

She had a date with one of the mortal gods on this Earth. Fate decreed they both stayed at this hotel. Life, wherever she ended up, would never be a fairy tale. For once, she was transported into another world. Perhaps she'd even get to find out what her crush tasted like.

As the elevators opened she spotted John from across the hall. He hadn't seen her so she studied him. He wore gray pants, a fresh white button-down shirt, and as always his hair was flawless. She glimpsed his blue eyes in profile.

Heat inched up her back. Then he half-turned, and his smile widened the moment he saw her. Her arms grew goose bumps. They could each be somebody else. She swung her hips as she stepped toward him.

Her feet itched to run, but she knew better. She slowed her pace to seem in control, but halfway there she barely missed the bellboy's luggage cart. Alice ducked—her big opening scene almost ruined. Then she laughed at herself. So much for those lessons on deportment that Victoria imparted from her actual etiquette lessons.

She gazed at John. His blue eyes stared right at her. She stopped laughing, but then he broke into a small laugh. She turned her head to the side to hide her giggles.

Without another incident she made her way to where he waited. As she stared up, his bright smile dimpled with approval. Her heart beat just for him. He took her hands in his and squeezed lightly. The skin he touched on her body sparked like she was a firework, though he simply said, "You look amazing, Alice."

He towered over her, exuding pure male testosterone. He hugged her and kissed her cheek, which was how everyone in Miami greeted each other, and never meant anything. Her skin tingled again. Then she caught a whiff of cedar and... gunpowder. She wiggled her nose to be sure. The scent was unmistakable. Then she crossed her arms. "Why do you smell like a gun?"

"I do?"

She swallowed. "Yeah, you do."

Silence hung in the air, but she expected an answer.

He stared hard at her. "How do you know what a gun smells like?"

This wasn't happening. He hadn't answered. She'd better not be on a date with a man who became a mafia's boss—and he hadn't inherited his father's evil personality. Her gaze narrowed. "I grew up in the country, where sometimes animals need to be put down. What is it you do? And don't lie. It's got to be something serious for you to smell like that."

"I shouldn't tell you." He peeked around the room and avoided her stare. She licked her lips. Otherwise she stayed still. John Morgan was not the billionaire rebel without a clue. His cheeks reddened. The color in his cheeks showed he was in the prime of his life. Then he leaned down. Her heart did a pitter-patter as he whispered in her ear, "I spent the past three years in the FBI, so I practically sleep with my gun."

"You work as a government agent?" She kept her voice low too. "Your father cursed the fact my dad served and that my brother went off to serve." Memories surfaced of how Mitch Morgan vocally hated all forms of government agents.

"I remember your dad mentioning Colt's choice to go to basic training. I'm sorry you heard my father's rantings."

His father didn't matter. Safety did. John was a man of integrity and honor. Her lips craved to brush against his. "How did your family feel about this?"

With a shrug, he said, "I don't want to talk about Dad tonight."

True. The man had stolen enough of their day already, but her curiosity continued. "He couldn't have been happy you chose to serve your country."

"He threatened to cut me off."

"Did he?"

"No, but he should have. I didn't touch a dime once I left."

"He used money to keep you on a leash."

"You understand too much." Then he shook his head. "The money doesn't drive me or matter."

She swallowed. It was impossible that a Morgan would walk away from the dynasty. In her own family, she couldn't walk away from the farm entirely, though she refused to ever touch a crop again, unless it was to help in an emergency. Her parents sacrificed everything for her and she'd do the same for them. "Then why did you come back?"

"Because Peter asked."

Peter and John were all each other had. She kept the thought to herself. With a shrug, she followed him to the restaurant. "So? If Colt wants me to do something I don't want, then it doesn't happen."

The hostess took his name and gave him a buzzer. On their way back outside, he whispered, "I needed to see with my own eyes. If my father is dead there is no way to take him down."

"Was that why you joined the FBI?"

"Absolutely."

"Oh. I didn't make that connection."

A conversation over dinner about his father was the opposite of fun. Besides, she needed to learn a few things in the here and now. Peter Morgan was the mystery to her—four years her senior, he'd never been home all those years she spent with Victoria. "Is Peter like your father?"

John brought her to the terrace where people sat with their drinks. The live music drifted in the open air as he answered, "I hope not. He's being kind, but he wants something and he's mentioned the will reading. I don't know how ruthless he is. I might remember wrong, or he might have changed."

He led them to a corner with black metal tables and chairs and fewer people to wait for their dinner buzzer to go off.

"What does that mean?"

He held out her chair and a sigh escaped her lips as she noticed the taper candles near the small vase of flowers. "I don't know, but he wants control of the business empire."

Everyone knew Peter had spent years in training to take over the House of Morgan. Her brain couldn't quite wrap around that John took off to be a government agent.

"What do you want?"

He lifted his finger for the waitress to come to their table as he showed off his cute dimples. "You."

Did he? Her face heated as she clutched her hands together under the table.

The waitress came over and John told her, "The Riesling. Alice has always enjoyed sweet."

She massaged her wrist to stop trembling. He remembered her sweet tooth.

The waitress left to get the bottle of wine.

Alice fixed her hair behind her ears, leaning close enough to John to sniff cedar, pine, and subtle gun residue. John was sexy before, but now he upheld the law. His untouchable hotness level skyrocketed. Her skin ached for him. "You avoided the discussion," she said. "I don't understand how a man such as yourself would take a job that doesn't pay nearly as much as you have in your bank accounts."

He tipped his head and her heart raced.

"How did you smell the gunpowder? I just bought these clothes."

"I like the shirt." The change of conversation didn't sway her, but his investigation technique needed work. She didn't feel pressured in the slightest. His broad shoulders could make a trash bag sexy. Her body melted like ice cream on a hot summer day. He'd leave soon, but he could have anything he wanted from her. The waitress came back with the bottle of wine and two glasses.

Alice waited for him to pour with her hands under her legs. She tried to calm her heartbeat so she'd sound almost normal. "I don't know." He set her glass before her. "You're supposed to smell like cedar and pine trees."

He stopped mid-sip. "I'm supposed to smell like a tree?"

"No. No." She shook her head. So much for smooth. She massaged the back of her neck with one hand and picked up her wine glass with the other.

She gulped some wine, grateful she could swallow. The liquid only made her peek at John again and fall deeper under his spell. Slowly, her temperature grew and her gaze wandered to the hotel door. Air conditioning might help. "It's how I remember you smelled. Reminds me of home, I guess."

Silence hung in the air, leaving her empty and vulnerable. He sipped his white wine, his gaze unreadable. Coldness seeped through her and sent a shiver down her back. This was the worst moment in her life. "Alice, why do you remember so much about me?"

Her face heated, which countered the ice in her neck, but her brain didn't quite work. She was light-headed. If she fainted, would the nightmare of this moment end? Not with her luck. _I have to tell the truth_. She leaned forward. "You were my first kiss."

Clearly shocked, his mouth fell open. Her breath stuck in her throat. The earth needed to swallow her _right now_. He placed his drink on a cocktail napkin and her nerves tingled. Then he put his forearms on the table. "What do you mean?"

There was no escape. No earthquakes appeared to save her. She placed her hands over his. He had to remember that moment as it was burned into her dreams. "It didn't mean anything to you. I knew that then. I accidentally moved my face, and you kissed my lips instead of my cheek. At that time, I didn't know what to do and I opened my mouth."

His entire face gazed so intensely at her that she lost her ability to think. He had no idea what she was talking about. She ought to go jump in the pool fully clothed and cool off. Granted she'd only been fourteen, but the memory was seared into her mind.

To avoid him, she gulped a second glass of wine and said nothing. There was nothing else to say. The special moment was destroyed, so she pushed away from the table. "I should probably go back to my room."

"Wait." He squeezed her hand. "We were at Vizcaya for Vicki's birthday party. I had no idea it meant so much to you."

She inhaled and scooted closer. He remembered! She took her hand back from him and clutched her necklace. "You remember?"

He tilted his face so they were inches apart. "You tasted like strawberries."

At the farm, she always ate strawberry something. He remembered her taste? Her mind was mush. To avert her gaze she turned her head and tried to stop her limbs from shaking. For one second she needed to breathe like a normal person. "We grow them on the farm."

Without a word, he picked up his drink and studied her. His perusal felt different from other men. There was no way she was worldly enough for a man like John.

Then a smile that shined like the sun appeared on his face and brought out those dimples as he leaned back in his chair. "I didn't know it was your first kiss. I'd have made it more special."

Her gaze flew to his, and the gleam in his eye made her feel like she was the only woman on the planet. "That would have been more awkward, and I was already embarrassed."

The buzzer on the table reverberated. He picked it up and took her elbow. "Don't be embarrassed. I was the luckiest guy that day, and I didn't even realize it."

If he thought like that, then tonight would end with fireworks and explosions. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said. "You had just had a fight with your dad or something. Shall we go to dinner?"

Her hotel room would be quieter. She would have been happy to skip dinner but he seemed intent on a meal. He lifted her to her feet as she scooted back her chair. His hand brushed the base of her spine. _This was it._ Her body trembled for his hand against her naked body as he escorted her into the dining room.

"I'm glad I came home," he said.

They waited for the hostess to show them to a table, and John held her seat for her. She'd told him her feelings and he'd responded. It wasn't her imagination—John was flirting with her. She had to read this right. After the funeral, they'd go their separate ways, but for tonight, she'd be his Cinderella. She traced her throat with her forefinger. "Why?"

"You." He slid into the seat opposite her.

A shiver of pleasure overwhelmed her. She lowered her eyes and giggled. Her nerves were getting in the way. She'd never be sophisticated. "The Morgan charm."

His hand went across the table and brushed against hers. "What?"

She picked up her drink. More memories played in her mind like a movie as she remembered the House of Morgan and how Vicki went to charm school. She tilted her head. "Did you get lessons in how to be charming?"

For a second, his face lost all traces of that guard that was so high and jaded. Then his sexy dimples came back and his smile was simple and pure. "No. I just like seeing you blush. Do the boys in the country not compliment you?"

She slid her drink back on the table and winked at him. "Not like you do."

Without warning, he scooted his chair closer to hers. "Alice Collins, if you keep looking at me like that, then I'm going to kiss you."

_Yes._ Her mouth fell open. He couldn't mean that. It was what she'd always wanted. Her entire body felt light and airy, but despite her dreams, she'd never actually drag John to her bed or anywhere. It wasn't who she was. Despite her claims, she couldn't pretend to be that much of someone else. She averted her gaze. "It's way too soon."

He leaned closer, across their seats. Every second disappeared and time went still. Her heart beat wildly. Then his nose brushed hers. "Then turn away."

She closed her eyes. Fairy tales weren't real and she needed to respect herself in the morning. "I can't."

His arms circled her waist. Nothing else existed in the world except them. Her body ached for his touch, all over. This was fate. Then his lips met hers. The featherlike brush against hers melted everything. This was heaven. His lips tasted like a fine wine or candy, but a million times more succulent.

# Chapter 6

John thought Alice's strawberry-scented hair matched the sweetness of her kiss as he pulled away from her mouth and leaned back in his chair.

He was under some spell and not himself tonight. With her, the world was fresh and clean. He gazed into Alice's light blue eyes and felt like he was in a dream where he was safe, and no one judged him. Though she'd compared him to a tree, Alice gave him a sense of home and belonging.

There was no other choice but to go slow with her. Her entire body begged him to take her right here and now, but he wouldn't. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to regain his control.

The music from the terrace wafted into the restaurant. Sitting across from Alice felt like he belonged somewhere. He tried to breathe.

She fingered her gold pendant, saying something he didn't catch. His gaze returned to her sweet lips as she unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap. He pictured kissing the parts she hid under her black dress.

She leaned across the table and kissed him. Without intention, he opened his lips, and tugged her close.

Steel drums beat in his ear, and he questioned if it was his heartbeat. He let go of her chin as the waitress came over.

"John, I don't know what to say."

Whatever had prompted those words would remain a mystery. The tingle of her kiss lingered on his lips. At least she couldn't hear his thoughts. She would run away. He sat back and crossed his arms. "I don't either. Alice, I'm in the middle of changing my entire life."

She scooted her seat in across from him. The distance of the round table between them was good. "Okay. Don't worry about it." She shrugged. "Tonight is a fantasy."

Fantasies and Alice were a dangerous combination. Forget dinner. It had been a bad idea to spend time with her. The trouble was, if he went anywhere near her room, he wouldn't let her go. The thought scared him. Alice reminded him of a dream he never had. She was the only thing he'd touched in years that was warm and inviting. "The funeral is on my mind."

"Of course it is. Despite everything, he was your father and the only parent you had."

"I don't want my dark thoughts to ruin your night too. Maybe once we finish our meal, I should let you go back to your room."

She toyed with her water glass, but then her lips puckered. "Don't run away on my account."

She knew him. Her comments about home earlier hit him in the gut. Alice's kiss made his body soar, and if he took her, then it would be forever. But eternity wasn't a possibility for him. In his everyday life, vengeance ruled him and he held onto too much anger to ruin a girl like her.

Breaking with the FBI wasn't as simple as handing in his badge and figuring out a financial position. He finished his drink and then said, "It's dangerous for me to involve myself in your life."

A brush of her hands on his pumped up his adrenaline. "Who said involved? It was just a kiss."

"A moment ago you were reserved." There was no way for her to know. She didn't understand. He gazed into her light blue eyes as she sipped her wine and then took her hand. "Alice, don't be someone you're not, for me or for anyone. You are too good for me."

Her eyes watered as she said, "You are being dramatic."

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. "Don't brush off how we feel right now. We both know where this leads."

"Then don't turn this moment into something it doesn't have to be. Just relax."

Relaxing wasn't going to happen near her. Alice Collins was sexy, and he didn't think she saw that. Back when Vicki was alive he must have been truly self-delusional, or blind. She'd been in front of his face the whole time. One moment with her might be worth a lifetime of possibilities.

He pulled his hands back to his lap. Tonight, he'd respect her. His sister's memory should mean that Alice was off limits. The heat under his collar grew. Every inch of him craved her. He stood up and offered his hand. "Dance?"

She blinked in surprise, but then she smiled like he'd picked her off the bleachers for the school dance. He shook off the thought and helped her up—her hand stayed in his. "Okay. I want to be in your arms."

For the dance only. He kept his lips pressed together.

With his rapt attention on her, she fixed her hair behind her ears and let him lead. Her body had curves, and her hand fit in his perfectly. He'd claim the life he wanted and when he was settled and secured, he'd keep Alice for a lifetime.

They found their positions on the dance floor where salsa music wafted in the air. He wrapped his arms around her perfectly shaped body and closed his eyes to breathe in the hint of strawberries. He led her in the dance. "You are one of those women, aren't you?"

She stumbled and then let him hold her to lead, but this time with a frown. "What are you talking about, those women?"

He turned her, his fingers aching to bring her closer. The beat was hard, rhythmic. He finally said, "The ones men call 'Sweetheart.' It's in your eyes."

The tempo rose and Alice shook her hips in time to the music. Her moves made his body feel weak, but hot. Her open gaze seemed inviting. "What did you say? What's in my eyes?"

This dance was torture. As her mouth moved, his lips ached to taste her one more time. He swallowed. "How sweet and kind you are and that you have a heart."

He spun her around and took that second to get himself under control. Goose bumps dotted his skin, and his flesh was hypersensitive. No words came out of his mouth as she twirled back into his arms. He had dated plenty of women—none of them had affected him like this. Alice was his home. The thought hit him hard. It held him in his place.

The need in his fingers to keep her locked in his arms grew. No more kissing her was allowed for him. As she moved, she came back and rubbed her chin. "I'm trying to figure you out. One minute you kiss me. The next minute you're stiff and not smiling. Does the FBI rip that out of its agents or something?" She tapped his chest.

This conversation was like a merry-go-round and made him dizzy. With the music, it was hard to follow a train of thought. If she was anyone else, _he'd_ be different, but she shattered his reserve. It took a second to catch that she was referring to his heart. She brushed his face with her fingers as he said, "The FBI leaves me cold."

Her body pressed against him. "You're far from that."

"You don't know that." He'd be ruthless, but near Alice, he lost that part of himself.

Her hips swayed, brushing his groin. Every part of him was primitive and wanted to throw her over his shoulder and take her upstairs to his room. Instead he said, "I don't want to talk about work."

"Then let's talk about us."

"Us?" Absolutely not. There was no _us_ or _we_ in this lifetime. His hands trailed up her perfect back, which only sent more heat throughout his body. "You are a more interesting topic. Funny too."

"What's funny?" Her face ticked like he said the wrong thing.

The music was in such a rush now that no matter how loud they spoke, it was difficult to hear.

He grimaced. "Nothing. We can't."

Her frown told him he disappointed her, though for the moment she said nothing.

The music picked up into a frenzy as he led her around in a circle. He pressed his lips together as she asked, "What's holding you back?"

The song ended with a high note. She was perfect, and his lips tingled to kiss her again. Instead he led her off the dance floor, as he'd not torture himself again. The date had to end soon. Night was coming in like a blanket that made him forget. His body couldn't handle being that close. She took his hand, and adrenaline surged through him. Brakes would help about now. "My family."

He led her to stand between a wall and the dance floor. Her face lost its brightness as she said, "Your sister liked me."

He liked her. He glanced at their table. The food wasn't nearly so tempting. Part of him hoped to get over his issues and just take her, but he leaned against the wall. "The House of Morgan is unforgettable."

"Perhaps it's your father that holds you still." She stayed in his arms as he massaged her shoulders. So close, he could kiss her again. He leaned in and her lips were inches from his, but then she turned her head. Her eyes misted, like she was upset at him. "Let's change topics. Why did you join the FBI?"

Clearly he was the one with the issue. Every pulse in his body demanded he take her and never let go. He stared into her blue eyes and saw a spark. It might be fear, but it might be desire. Perhaps she should fear him, but his pulse near her was off the chart. He shook his head and tried to get a grip. "To find out the depths my father would go. I know he had something to do with Vicki's death."

Her face flinched. "Would he kill his own daughter?"

"If I stood in the way of something, he'd discard me. I'd assume he'd do that to her too."

"Yet you joined the FBI to hunt down his friends and still he didn't cut you out. Despite how miserable I remember Vicki being with your dad, I have a hard time believing he'd have killed his only daughter."

She stroked his forearm, offering comfort. "Don't think about him."

Then she reached out and hugged him. Her body pressed against his, and his hands shook as he restrained himself from holding her too tight. "Deal."

Alice nodded, and pulled out of their hug. "Vicki was distant and unseen for months before she died. I thought we were going to college together, but she never showed up."

He tilted his head and took another long look at Alice's beauty. This was a conversation he could have. Her skin had a glow to it that made her stand out. It might be because she seemed to truly care. "She never confided in you why she disappeared?"

Her eyes widened. "No. Did you ever find out why she left?"

He shook his head and squeezed her hand, taking her to the table and their dinner which had just arrived "No. I hoped you did."

John held her chair as she sat and then pushed her in. "Where did you go after the funeral?"

"I was getting my master's at Stanford the day she died." He took the seat opposite Alice. His father had assumed he was into science, so when he'd moved to DC and walked away from everything, Mitch had hardly noticed. "Right after the funeral, I joined the FBI academy. My father was so angry he said he'd disown me."

Both of her hands now held his across the table. "But he didn't."

Alice was easy to talk to. He hadn't had anyone in his corner for as long as he remembered. "No. He kept the monthly money piling into my accounts, but now I have no idea what will happen. I guess I'll find out at the will."

She shrugged. "Maybe Peter disagreed with your dad."

Holding Alice's hand made the entire day worth living. He took his hand back and gazed into her clear and lovely face. Then he poured them both a glass of wine. "I don't know. Peter was the oldest and he was the most distant. Out of all of us, he remembered our mother the most, and I think I was jealous that he had memories."

She took the glass as she squeezed his shoulder. "You don't?"

This wasn't to make her feel bad for him. He shook his head. "Fragmented pictures go through my mind, but nothing concrete."

She brushed her hand against his again, and the warmth in his body shot through his veins. "I don't know how that feels. Vicki always said your mom left you all the day she was born, but if you have memories, that has to be hard. I'm so sorry."

This conversation could only be had with her. No one else would ever understand. He withdrew his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

The server interrupted and asked, "Do you need anything else?"

"No, thanks." John said without one glance away from her.

"I'm glad we're honest with each other." As soon as they were alone, again, she smiled and her face glowed. She could be related to angels, if those things existed. "'Cause you can trust me. It's okay. John, I told you my darkest secret."

"I wish I'd known about your crush back then."

She sipped her wine. His mouth watered and he wished he was the wine. He needed to stop this fantasy about Alice. She had no idea.

They finished their dinner.

She shook her head. "I was a tomboy and your sister's friend."

No, that wasn't why he hadn't noticed her before. If he had, it would be less of a nuclear explosion inside him now. She drank her wine. He scooted closer. "You turned out to be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

What had he said? Her entire body seemed to tell him to take her. Every cell in him reacted to her. He stared at her mouth and remembered she tasted better than fruit. She tasted liked Heaven.

She opened her eyes and then offered a smile. With a wink, she said, "That's it. We're getting married."

His entire body stilled. "What?"

She laughed. Perhaps she could be flirty and fun. "I'm joking, slightly. I don't know how much more flirting I can do. John. We're both adults now. We should go upstairs."

It wasn't a joke. The picture of a simple life with Alice at the door as she waited for him flashed in his mind. If he married Alice, then he'd have her in his life forever. No one would be hurt if he kept her.

It was something to think about. He took her hand and led her inside the hotel. "Then I'll ensure you get back to your room, alone."

She winced, hurt. "Okay." She shrugged. "Thank you for tonight."

He walked her toward the elevator, but kept her hand in his. Her eyes widened but she didn't ask. Her soft skin kept him grounded and warm. He hit the button to call the elevator. "At the funeral tomorrow, I'll be distant. The press will be there. Please don't be offended."

"So you don't want people on television to see me with you?"

"It's for your own protection. You should be safe, away from Peter and Jennifer and their narrow worldview."

The elevator opened, and they both went inside. She pressed 12 as he hit 13. Part of him wanted to go to her room and rip that dress off her body.

He gripped the elevator door to stop himself. She asked, "Why?"

The doors closed and they were alone. He wouldn't kiss her again. He swallowed. "I'm attracted to you and that's something my brother and the world doesn't need to see."

She rubbed her arms and met his gaze. Her eyes held a glimmer of a question that she kept unspoken. Should he lean her backwards in the elevator and kiss her hard? Right now, no. He intended forever, and forever doesn't start with seduction. A potential wife was different than a random hookup. He stood straighter. She was steady and he needed strength.

"You really don't trust him, do you?"

What had he said? Something about his brother. His mind caught up to the conversation, though his mouth still ached to kiss her. "I don't know. He might be fine, but in the House of Morgan signs of affection can be used as a weapon. You're too sweet."

Without another thought he captured her lips in a kiss. The overwhelming sense that he belonged with her shot through him like a lightning bolt. Her hands wrapped around his neck as he held her waist. He pulled back for a breath of air as the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

For a moment, neither of them moved or said anything. The elevator dinged a second time and his hand went out to stop the doors from closing. She swallowed and then said, "Okay. Good night."

She moved like an angel. She walked off the elevator, but then he held the door and asked her sexy backside, "Coffee afterwards?"

The words had just flown out of his mouth. She turned around and offered him a smile. "Where?"

He reached for his phone, and hoped his hands didn't show sweat. He swallowed back his nerves. "I'll text you, if you give me your number."

A laugh formed on her face, though neither made a sound. "Smooth, John."

She took his phone and typed her number. Then she handed it back to him. Strawberries scented the air. The taste of Alice was even sweeter. She took a step back from the elevator. "Good night."

"I'll see you at the funeral."

He lost all sense of what to say near her. Alice was incredible. If he could bottle her and keep her in his life, he'd be happier than he'd been in years.

* * *

He walked into his room and stared at Alice's number one more time. Smiling, he knew he'd find her again, but he refused to spend the evening like a lost puppy dog as he gazed at her name. He closed out the phone application and checked his email. The second one caught his attention.

_John Morgan,_

_You are the reason my family is dead. Now that I know your name, nothing can stop me from taking away everything you ever loved, starting with the brunette._

Someone had seen him and Alice together. His entire body froze, but training took over. John's feet pressed into the floor as he listened to his heartbeat slow. First he forwarded the message to his ex-boss at the FBI and then clenched his hands. He might have quit, but this was likely job-related.

The pain in his chest felt like a heart attack. All that mattered now was ensuring that Alice was safe.

The FBI was the best plan. With the Morgan fortune, he could hire whatever security he needed. Rejoining his father's world meant he had to face his choices, but in no way would anyone hurt Alice. He swallowed and coldness entered his body. He'd never go out with Alice Collins, ever again, if that kept her safe.

The threat mentioned her specifically. He'd have to protect her. No one would ever hurt her. He grabbed his bag and headed to the door. Tonight he slept in the hall.

# Chapter 7

Last night had ended too innocently to be the ultimate fantasy. All she had was the promise of another date and a few spine-tingling kisses. It was more than she'd had previously, but her skin felt icky, like she missed something. A frown didn't budge from her lips, and the bright sun from the window did nothing for her, except wake her up.

The coffee in her room helped as she checked her cotton granny panties and prayed the line wasn't that noticeable. The clock read later than she intended, so she walked out the door. No morning conversation with her mom was also perfect as her phone was still off, and she kept it that way. At the hotel, they let her sit inside until the valet had her SUV, and then bellboys packed her one bag in the back.

The cloudless blue of the morning sky lifted her spirits. She poked her tongue into her cheek as she drove. Another date with John might seal the deal. A funeral should have cooled her libido, and John was the man's son. She tapped the steering wheel to the beat of the radio.

As she turned her SUV into the church parking lot, bright lights from the streets blinded her. She'd passed so many video cameras that her eyes were dazed. She killed the ignition, a frown on her face. She'd never live like this.

It was still morning and the coffee hadn't kicked in. She ran her hands through her short hair, and kept her head down to avoid the flashes of a mob from the gate she had just passed. She sighed. Nothing good happened at funerals.

John would be in the procession later and he'd warned her that he wouldn't spend time with her today, not until after this was over. She made her way to the front door, though she realized she was early.

The glass doors closed behind her leaving her in a white hallway. A flutter grew in her stomach. Alice turned right and swore she saw a blonde woman who looked like Victoria float into an adjoining room. Alice blinked, knowing that was impossible.

Denied sex never brought people back to life. Alice rubbed her eyes.

The church was warm. Hopefully, when people arrived, they would blast the air conditioning. She swallowed and felt overheated as she entered the main room.

A few mourners sat in the light brown pews but the place was still pretty empty. Mitch Morgan's casket had so many flower baskets around it he appeared like a king as he lay in state at the front of the room.

This was why John had been in no mood for her last night. If the situation were reversed, she'd be a total mess too. Alice hugged her stomach and chose instead to go wait in the greeting area for more people. With the scattered amount of guests who milled in the halls, she'd blend better.

If she missed seeing John this morning, she'd be fine. Coffee afterward would make up for everything else. With that thought, she turned on her phone. There were a dozen voice mails from her mother. She pursed her lips, flicked it back off, and returned to the bright hall.

Though the sun was shining brightly, her arms had goose bumps. It felt like someone was staring at her. She turned around completely, but saw no one.

Whatever it was felt familiar, not frightening.

Perhaps Mitch had more children than the three he raised, and John would meet half-brothers and -sisters at his funeral. Not that she wished that on him, but her gut said something was about to happen.

* * *

Noise outside caught her attention. She folded her arms in front of her black dress as a large group of people walked in. The lights flashed brighter than fireworks on the Fourth of July, so Peter and John must have arrived.

The explosion in her heart begged to lock eyes with John. Alice didn't see him, but the surge of hope never wavered.

Alice blinked at Jennifer in a magnificent black gown that could double as a dress for the Academy Awards. Her long black hair, dark eyes, and pale skin made her the star that she was. Mortals did not look like Jennifer Gonzales.

Other people passed by, but she never saw John. The lights were too bright. As shoulders passed in front of her, goosebumps rose on her arms. Then her stare froze as she gazed at the outline of her fairy-tale prince. John's light blondish-brown hair, blue eyes, and dimples blew every other man out of the water.

Her lips tingled as she remembered their kiss. She averted her gaze and blended into the crowd that walked into the chapel for the ceremonies.

Peter Morgan suddenly appeared at her side. She gazed up at John's brother. Her mind didn't register anything at first, but then Peter's words acted like a knife to the bread that was her brain. "Consider our contracts canceled at the end of the term."

Alice's mouth dropped open. Her father's retirement depended on that contract. Her fingers felt like ice, and her skin grew cold. "What?"

Peter continued past her in the rush and took Jennifer's hand. He acted as if he hadn't just destroyed her.

Jennifer, obviously in on the plan, added, "You were never important, Alice. No one knows why you're here."

Alice's stomach twisted. Sharp pains poked through her skin.

The pair of them walked away in the throng of people.

Alice blinked and could do nothing but stare. She'd come here to pay her respects to the House of Morgan and keep her family safe. Instead, she'd lost her family's contract to sell their produce in supermarkets around the country.

Her parents were retiring and needed the income. Her father was recovering from a heart attack. Her brother was leaving the Marines to raise his daughter. The weight of responsibility rested on her shoulders, and her very independence depended on her business skills. This wasn't possible.

She folded her freezing hands together. She had to think fast.

John's fingers brushed her back. A spark of electricity woke her. "Alice, you look like a ghost. Are you okay?"

"Your brother..." Her voice trailed off. She shouldn't tell him, not here, at the funeral. She pressed her lips together. She gazed at the floor to count the marble tiles. "Never mind. We can talk about it later."

His warm hands pressed against her back. She turned toward him as he took her hand. "Forget what I said last night. Sit next to me and tell me what happened."

This wasn't smart. She swallowed. She'd be in the same row with Peter and Jennifer. No real conversation could be had there. Besides, the entire world might see her if she sat next to the President of the United States or the former one. She kept her legs from buckling by locking her knees. "I don't think I should."

John's hand kept her warm. The blush in his cheeks suggested he was happy to see her. It was something at least. He held his hand on her back as he walked her down the aisle. "Tell me what happened."

She must be having an out-of-body experience. As she followed him and her hand took his, her mind was a complete blank. Honestly, she couldn't think. This was so strange.

Her backside sat down before she realized she was exactly where she feared, in front of a President and in the row as part of the family. With those cameras, her mother would definitely see her and Alice had no explanation to offer on what happened with John Morgan. "Not here."

John's hand stayed on hers as they stood up so the former President could pass and get his seat. John's face paled as he stared at a television camera. "I didn't know Peter allowed cameras in here."

At least he thought about what this looked like too.

Jennifer shook her head at Alice in disapproval. Alice refused to cower because of her, and she held her head higher. "Your brother is dating an actress. I wouldn't be surprised if the engagement was a television reality show."

"No," John whispered in her ear, and his warm breaths tickled her neck. "That wouldn't be fitting for a Morgan. Peter would not sink that low."

Then, in the corner of her eye, Alice swore she saw Victoria again. She rubbed the back of her neck.

She squeezed John's hand enough for him to ask, "Are you okay?"

To avert her gaze, she brushed her hair behind her ears. "Yes. You're right about your brother and trust, by the way."

"What happened?"

Vicki would be here, if her father was dead, but Alice didn't believe in ghosts. There was no explanation for what she thought she saw. She touched her forehead. "Right now, this isn't about me. Your brother just dropped a bombshell that I'll have to figure out how to handle."

John's gaze turned cold as he stared over her head. Alice followed the direction and saw Peter. Peter's face appeared confused for a split second, but then he nodded at his brother. The Morgan attitude of _they own everything_ took over.

John whispered to Alice, "Tell me what happened with him the second we escape this. Peter has no right to bully you."

Bully was a strong word and untrue. The contract wasn't with John. Peter had every right to walk away, though her heart constricted at the thought. She'd have to scramble fast to find another client.

Then lights blinded her as people gasped. Alice's arms had goosebumps. John's eyes lit up as he gazed at something behind them. The glow of his entire demeanor emanated happiness. She bit her lip. Someone shocking must be here. Then she turned her head around and followed John's stare.

His mouth gaped and he took her hand closer to his body. Even Peter's cheeks were rosy with excitement. The people around her blocked whoever everyone stared at. John's fingers laced around hers. Alice followed the direction of his gaze. The heads finally swayed out of her way and she pressed her free hand against her chest.

Alice's entire body went numb. Victoria Morgan walked into the room and made her way down the aisle. Like both her brothers, her cheeks were rosy and her blue eyes shone with life and vitality. Alice swallowed. Oh my goodness. Her best friend was alive.

# Chapter 8

John flinched and he couldn't quite stop blinking. Victoria and Alice hugged like they were sisters while the entire world watched everything live on television, including whoever intended him or Alice harm. His sister would be a target too. He stood back in thought until Vicki called, "Don't I get a hug, or are you mad at me?"

Without one word, John wrapped his arms around his baby sister, and her soft skin and fresh clean smell told him she was indeed alive. He hadn't quite believed it. He closed his eyes as a sea of emotions wracked his body. Victoria's death had been the hardest part of his life, but it didn't matter now. She was here.

Peter coughed. "Let go, John, so I can hug our sister."

John stepped out of the way and brushed his hand down Alice's back. He tried to hold her steady because she was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm.

Peter and Victoria hugged. Jennifer didn't budge from the first row for a few seconds. Then she trembled as she joined them. Alice tried to slip her hand free, but John kept her close. He glanced down at her and Alice whispered, "This is a family moment, John."

Jennifer's eyes watered as she walked over to Victoria and Peter, though Alice braced as the woman glided past them.

He shook his head, holding Alice tight. Victoria would want her best friend, and he needed to keep them all safe. Together.

Everyone watched through the rolling cameras.

Victoria and Peter stepped out of their hug. She asked, "Is Dad really dead?"

"We should have checked _your_ casket." Peter smiled then stepped aside.

John tilted his head. His brother's face read like he had already known that Vicki was alive. There was no shock, not like everyone else. Had Peter known all along? His sister's funeral had been faked and he'd fallen for that. Their father must have been laughing in his grave at how gullible he'd been. John's spine turned ice cold.

"You're hurting my hand." Alice twisted her wrist and he let go.

Alice needed to be protected. He turned to her and again placed his hand on her arm. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." She smiled with a warmness that felt like concern. "We all thought Victoria was dead—you turned into an icicle. John, sweetie, are you okay?"

He gazed over her and stared into the network news camera that was aimed right at his face.

"Yes." John looked beyond her and toward a camera that recorded the entire funeral. There was no way he could let Alice leave, not now. She'd be in danger. "Come, help me get the family out of here."

Victoria hugged Jennifer as the television actress cried in front of the cameras. At Castle Morgan, the family home that wasn't truly a castle, but an estate, they'd be safe. Alice wouldn't like that arrangement. John held her elbow and guided her as he said, "Peter, let's take Vicki to the back room, away from the cameras."

Jennifer took Peter's hand and the five of them pushed past his father's casket and out the side door. Alice stayed with him until they were at the exit. He let go so she could enter, but she stepped to the side. John tried to call her back, but she slipped into the crowd.

Vicki would be safe with Peter and Jennifer, but Alice wasn't. She had no idea about the danger. He rushed into the crowded room to get her.

Walking fast, she'd already reached the front room near the main door, and he called out, "Wait."

Her face was red as she turned around and glanced at the crowd of people around them. "Why did you follow me?"

At least she stayed still as he approached. He needed to explain so she'd understand. With his palms up, he tried to sound reasonable. "Don't go."

She shook her head, her fingers on the door handle. "What are you doing? You should be with your family right now."

He reached out to stop her. "Stay with me."

She averted her gaze and looked over his shoulder at the people around them. "Victoria is in there. She'll call me later. Be with your family."

The thought of Alice outside alone sent a chill down his entire body. "I can't let you go."

Her face turned a deeper shade of red. "John, our date last night was great, but it was just a fantasy. Our worlds are different." As she spoke, a red laser appeared on her face and his mouth dropped.

Without a word, John grabbed her and positioned her between his chest and the wall as a bullet crashed through the glass doors right beside them. Alice screamed and then put her palm over her mouth to stop.

He covered her head with his arms to block any shattered glass.

Shouts sounded behind them.

He patted her strawberry-scented hair as her smell helped block out the stench of gunpowder.

From both sides of the church foyer, Secret Service came out of the funeral with guns drawn. Alice shook. He held her tight as he called, "Bullet came from outside."

At least he hadn't given back his gun or badge yet, as his training was why he was wore his weapon. One of the agents had his finger to his ear as he answered, "We have two Presidents to protect. Our men are en route."

Alice trembled in his arms and he rocked her to keep her calm. This was his fault. No one would get to her. In the security mirror, near the entrance, he saw she was pale. "Can I take her to sit down?"

One of the men in sunglasses said, "I need to see identification."

Her lips shook. "My license is in my purse, John."

No one should scare her like this. He'd have to find out who did this. John nodded, but held her waist to keep her close as he opened his jacket to reveal his FBI badge. "She's with me. She was almost shot."

The men with the guns pointed at them held their weapons higher and let them pass. He took her toward one of the rooms to the back and away from the funeral. Alice stayed in his arms as she followed. She stayed close until he closed a side door. Then she blinked, tried to stand taller, and swallowed. "Who shot at me?"

His heart constricted in his chest. He had no idea how much to reveal. He couldn't tell her that this was a threat against him. "Could be anyone."

She took his bicep in both of her hands. "Did you see a laser on my face? I thought I saw a red light."

"Yeah. It's why I dragged you in my arms."

Her blue eyes sparkled with curiosity and fear. Her cheeks grew red. "Your skills as an agent were spot-on perfect."

"No, that wasn't what happened. I was lucky."

She shook her head, placed her palm to forehead like she recalled the feel of the red laser, and then closed her eyes. "Wow. I'll be fine. It was probably someone trying to shoot the President."

She walked away from him, and he reached out to keep her close. Again the smell of strawberries played in his throat. "They almost shot you."

Her face went pale as she stiffened. "That doesn't make any sense. I'm not the President. I'm no one important."

His hands froze on her back as he realized he had to tell her. He gazed into her eyes, wishing he didn't have to reveal his true feelings. "Someone threatened to kill anyone I loved."

Her lips parted. "What? I still don't qualify. You don't love me."

John let her back away as his spine stiffened while he waited to be knocked out from a punch he had no power to stop. What he said sounded extreme, but his heart knew the truth. He promised himself that no one was going to hurt her because of him. "Just now. On national television? We appeared close."

She frowned. "So someone thinks you love me?"

It shouldn't be that hard for her to believe that he had feelings. He took a deep breath and steered the conversation back to the point. "We need to focus on your safety."

Her arms stayed at her sides as her eyes grew wider. "What about my family?"

Alice should think more about herself. He nodded. "I'll keep a patrol at your parents' farm."

She shook her head like it wasn't enough. "They have to be safe."

As she wasn't a fan of his family, he wouldn't mention the Morgans had their own security that rivaled any government run organization. By staying out of sight, no one should go after her parents. John crossed his arms so he'd not attach himself to her. "You're the primary target. They'll go to them if they can't get to you, but you have to be kept out of sight."

"That wasn't very reassuring."

"I don't know how to soften my words or lie to you."

"My mother pretty much hates your family."

Only Alice would spend this long worrying about others and not herself. Her sweetness was more palatable than sugar. He stayed still so she wouldn't jump. "Good. Whoever hears her tell that to the world won't bother with her. Right now, I want you with me until I find out who is behind the threats. If you go home, you risk putting your family in danger. It's safer if I put a patrol on the outside while you're with me."

Her eyes misted like she might cry, though her pale cheeks stayed dry. She stared at him like he'd set out to hurt her. "So I can't go home?"

He'd have to go slow with her and not push too hard too fast, but no one would get to her on his watch. "I have to insist you stay with me."

Her lips twitched. "You don't have a place, and I'm not staying at Castle Morgan."

His brother's home would have state of the art security where no one would get to them, though he'd rather not bunk with Peter. He had his own version of a Morgan home that he never used and the family service just stocked for him. "I don't want to go there either."

"I won't be your shield from your brother. You need a better plan if I'm staying with you. The hotel?"

"No." He rubbed his chin. "Let me think."

She crossed her arms too as if this was an argument she could win. "I finalize buying my condo next week...."

He dropped his arms to his sides so he wouldn't close her off. She needed to agree to be with him. He missed the rest of what she said and blinked. She turned to leave. He said, "What?"

She turned back around, shook her head and threw her arms to her sides. "Yeah. I do have a life, John."

He reached out with both hands and stroked her arms until she calmed down. She gazed up at him and her blue eyes welled with tears. He lowered his head and the scent of strawberries caught in his throat. He spoke softly but firmly as he vowed not to bring up every type of criminal out there and what they might do. "If you intend to keep that condo, then you stay with me. We don't know who is after us yet."

She licked her lips but shook her head. "This is insane."

He texted the service his family used to ensure that the house was livable. With Morgan security it would be the safest place for them.

Victoria poked her head into the room he was in with Alice. John saw Peter and Jennifer in the background. Peter had his hands in his pockets, wearing a confused expression as he looked at Alice. Vicki smiled at them and opened her arms. "John, Alice, come join us. I've missed you both so much."

John had no words. Perhaps his family hadn't heard the shot or they were pretending again. The attack had used a silencer. His sister wasn't a ghost, but he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing either. He took Alice's hand. A spark of fire grew in his belly. No harm could come to Alice because of his stupidity today. He'd find a way to keep her safe until this was over.

His gaze returned to Peter. For Victoria, they'd work together.

# Chapter 9

Alice's entire body shivered. Her mind replayed the bullet that blasted through the door and shattered the glass above her head. John had protected her with his massive, muscular chest by shoving her against the wall. She could have died.

Everything else right now was a complete blur.

John's strong arm was still on her back, and his presence helped steady her fast-paced heartbeat. She rubbed her arms with both hands. This whole day was like a dream come true. Vicki was alive. Her childhood crush now held her.

A bullet to the head wasn't part of that fantasy. She sighed. The others were talking about what had happened. Perhaps John was wrong about the threat against those he loved. Who knew what happened to Victoria and how she'd escaped to come home?

The beat of her heart overshadowed her hearing. She moved closer.

Peter Morgan was on the phone with someone and Jennifer stroked Vicki's hair. Alice stayed near John and asked, "Vicki, did your dad kidnap you and keep you from all of us?"

"No." Victoria averted her gaze and looked toward both her brothers. "I faked my death."

Alice turned to John as his mouth formed the shape of an O and his eyes grew wider. His hand stayed on Alice's back.

John asked, "Why would you do that?"

Victoria's face grew white. "I had to get away from Dad and everything he'd done."

Peter stepped in and blocked her view as he took his sister's hand. "What happened between you two?"

John snorted. "You don't know?"

Peter shook his head and then turned toward them. "When it came to our sister, Dad never said anything."

"You weren't surprised to see Vicki today." John's accusation caused silence all around.

"I saw him an hour before the funeral. He was surprised then," Vicki explained. "He couldn't track you down for a private meeting. I'm sorry."

John's fingers pressed into her arm and Alice turned to take his hand. "You don't have to pretend our family is normal, Vicki."

Vicki rocked on her feet and hugged her waist.

Alice stepped away, but John's fingers circled the small of her back. If he needed her right now, she'd stay. She needed his strength, too, as her mind was a whirlwind, and she couldn't quite feel or think.

John said, "Peter, in many ways you are just like him. You should have told me when we were walking in."

Peter stood still. "Vicki wanted to surprise you."

John's palm heated. "Dad would have said that too."

"He trained me since birth to be who I am." Peter returned his attention to Victoria. "I never thought to escape as you did."

Vicki's face paled until she almost matched her all-white dress, but then she licked her lips which had the only trace of pink color. "I see my brothers both decided to keep my friends as girlfriends."

Alice's face flushed. "John and I are just friends."

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Sure, and I'm applying to be a nun next week. Alice, we're adults now. You don't have to pretend to be an angel."

Alice clenched her hands. Jennifer was too much. "Not everyone is like you, Jenny."

Jennifer's nose curled at her old nickname. Alice bit her lip and then realized she had nothing to be guilty for. One kiss didn't make a relationship. This whole thing was crazy. She had avoided Jennifer for years and would again, once they all left this room.

Victoria smiled and nodded at how John and Alice held hands. "I approve of you two, if that means anything to either of you."

Alice broke into a laugh. This was a ridiculous conversation. Someone was out to kill someone—her—and they spoke about dating. They were no longer teenagers.

John released her hand, and Alice's body chilled. He went to the door to speak to security as she glanced at the bulge on his spine that must be his gun. Her heart almost stilled as he returned to her, placed his hand on her spine, and addressed his brother. "Our family reunion needs to be better planned. Peter, ensure that Vicki is kept safe tonight at Castle Morgan. I'll plan our escape from here and see the rest of you tomorrow."

Alice opened her mouth and almost asked, "What about me?" but clamped her lips together. Her mind returned to the fact that she was at a funeral where two former US Presidents showed up and the current one had sent his apologies. The shot had to be related to that, and not some threat to John. No one was going to kill her. Or her family.

John took Alice's hand and dragged her out the door.

Her feet stumbled to keep up, but he held her close as he went to a Secret Service agent. He spoke to the man so fast that Alice turned toward the funeral and tuned out their conversation. Guests sat in the pews of the church, talking animatedly. "She's alive?" "It's better than a soap opera." "Do you think the old man is dead or will he wake up later today?"

Once again Mitch Morgan set off a firestorm in his family, at his own funeral. Her mother would say he was stirring trouble from the grave.

Alice's face heated. Victoria's funeral had been with a closed casket while Mitch Morgan's waxy face beamed from his silken coffin. He had been the richest man in the world who craved power over the rest of mankind.

John told the agents, "My father loaned the government money to pay the national debt. This threat is either against the Presidents, me, or my family. I'm heading to a safe house with this woman. Cover us until we make it out of the parking lot."

"Woman?" Alice said as he turned her on her heel and they headed back where someone had almost killed her.

He opened the door and didn't bat an eye. Her heart raced. "The Secret Service cleared the parking lot to get the Presidents out. I'll have your car brought somewhere safe, later, but we're heading to my car."

John kept her hand in a tight lock, and she shivered as she ran to stay beside him. "Don't call me woman. My name is Alice."

He stopped at a brand new black Mercedes Benz with tinted windows. Her white SUV on the other end of the lot was dusty from the road but right now it seemed like a shrine toward home. John opened the passenger door and waved for her to get in. "Alice, I didn't mean to offend you."

Her shoulders curved inward. Part of her wanted to run toward her SUV and take off for the family farm. The other part didn't think that was a good idea. Her body shook. "I don't feel safe outside right now."

He placed his hand on her shoulder and she jerked back at the touch. Then she took a breath and relaxed. John said, "I'll protect you, but we can't camp out at the church."

Noise behind them caused her to spin on her heel and stare at the Secret Service taking one of the Presidents to a limo. Alice rubbed her arms and turned back to John's strong profile. His five o'clock shadow somehow soothed her. "Where are we going?"

He tilted his jaw in the air. "I can't tell you."

She wasn't a child and that was not a good answer at all. She shook her head. "Why not?"

John leaned closer. "In case someone is listening."

"What?"

He opened the door. "We're outside, open targets. Alice, please get in."

She stared into his blue eyes. Then she slowly nodded and ducked into the passenger seat of his car. "John, okay, I'm going to trust you."

He locked her door and then swung around the car and joined her. He found his sunglasses and then sped out of the parking lot. Alice massaged her forehead. "Your brother canceled his contract with my family."

"What?"

This was a topic she'd have discussed with him over coffee. The original plan sounded like a dream. "Peter spoke to me before we all went in. He canceled the contract. It was why I was upset earlier when you came over to me. I have no idea how my parents can retire without that. I have to get to work."

The engine purred and she paused. He kept his gaze on the road and clutched the wheel. "We have more important things to discuss."

No. She wouldn't think about herself or the bullet that almost lodged itself in her brain. She played with her gold pendant. "My parents are my priority."

"I'll speak to Peter for you."

If Peter Morgan changed his mind then she could breathe easier, but it wasn't wise to hope. There had to be another production company that would buy their oranges up north. The cash crop was a commodity many people around the country craved. "If he doesn't change his mind, then I have to go shopping for a new shipper. That's going to be my priority."

His hand crossed the seat and squeezed her arm. "It's not as important as your life."

John Morgan was bringing up things out of her comfort zone. Her body tensed as she wrapped her head around what she could handle. "I don't have a life if I don't find a new contract."

"Alice, you have your priorities backwards."

She stared out the window. Today was something out of a movie. The funeral, her best friend returned from the dead, someone almost shooting her, her lost business contract, while her body buzzed with awareness of John and it was altogether too much to handle.

John wasn't being reasonable right now and her muscles were so tight that she couldn't breathe. "Let's not talk anymore for a while. I'm not in the mood. Today has been insane."

# Chapter 10

John's gut clenched as if he'd been sucker-punched. Alice Collins had almost died today and it was because of him. He shouldn't have spent the evening with her the night before his father's funeral.

Alice stared out the window and refused to look at him.

Mitch Morgan ruined everything and even from his grave, he'd ensure that his children did as they were told. John's mind flashed back to his father's opinion of Alice he'd shared one night to Vicki at the dinner table.

_Alice isn't good enough for you._

_Dad, she's my friend and nice to me. No one is nice to me._

_People shouldn't be nice to you. People should fear you and the House of Morgan_.

John had stayed quiet, but the message was always the same. Fear was the weapon of choice for the Morgans. Unlike his sister, John snuck out of the house and did what he wanted. His father never knew how he played high school and college football as it didn't bring anything substantial to his business. It had been better to simply not bother him, as he was the spare son. It had been easy to disappear. Peter and Victoria had had it different.

"Where are you taking me?" Alice turned toward him. His heartbeat quickened as he stared into her pretty eyes that now seemed almost green and not her usual deep blue.

He tugged his ear and turned south. "I own a house in Pinecrest."

Her gaze narrowed. "I thought you didn't have any property here."

"My dad bought it for me."

"Must be nice."

His shoulders tensed. "I never wanted it."

"Houses in rich areas are tough to give up as a present." The harshness in her tone disappeared and she reached over and caressed his arm. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day. What _did_ you want?"

He turned off Biscayne and down a side street. "From my father, absolutely nothing."

"Then why are we going to the house?"

He made another turn. Soon enough he'd have her at his place. "It's safe. The House of Morgan has better security than the Secret Service, and neither of us wanted to go to Castle Morgan."

"True." She crossed her arms. "Now that your dad is dead, you'll take your place in the House of Morgan, and everything will go back to normal, fast."

"I don't have my own place here yet or a final decision on my career." His body still burned. He licked his lips to cool down. "I don't know anything other than you need to be safe."

She shook her brown hair and a piece of shattered glass glinted from the strands. He reached behind her ear and removed it as she said, "Don't pin your inheritance on saving my life."

He clutched the wheel and drove into the driveway with huge trees that blocked the view of the black gate that he clicked open. "You know way too much, Alice."

She gazed at the modern home where he parked the car in the garages to the right, and her eyes widened. He followed her gaze toward the Spanish-style open air courtyard. Then she unlocked her own door. "I paid attention."

He clicked the garage open and drove the last few feet so no one would see his car from the street. Behind him the garage door closed, and the lights came on automatically. He turned off the engine. "I should have paid more attention a long time ago."

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. "Why don't you just take me to the farm? We'll know if anyone steps foot on our dirt."

The garage was fully closed now. He unlocked his door and stepped out. "Alice, you know I can't."

She unbuckled her seatbelt, and then jumped to follow him. "I don't know anything."

He walked toward her even though it was the wrong side of the house. She took a step back. Her eyes were so big. He opened his hands, palms showing, and nodded. "I was in the FBI and investigated bad people."

Her gaze narrowed again. He'd have to remember Alice was really sharp. "Was? Are you or are you not?"

With her, he was honest and not holding back. "I am making new plans for my life. There's no point staying in the FBI."

"Except for the threat on your life." She moved nearer to him and even though the garage still had the car engine smell, his nostrils picked up her strawberry scent. "The House of Morgan tempting you back."

He gestured toward the house but she stayed still. John straightened his back. "I left Miami because of Victoria."

Her voice softened. "She's alive."

He nodded. "And I don't know what I'm supposed to do any more."

She came closer. His world went from gray and lifeless to full color. Her brown hair had a shine to it, and her pert lips tempted him. She clearly wasn't affected because she acted angry. "Live. It's what we're all supposed to do. We find a way in the world to give back to our community and shine as the individuals we truly are on the inside."

She was like a big human puzzle. He tilted his head to try to figure her out. "What if I turn out like my father?"

"Impossible."

If John planned on making the money to prove his father wrong, he'd need someone next to him to remind him. A smile spread across his face. No one ever said that with so much conviction. He almost believed her. "Why?"

"'Cause you care too deeply."

His heart did a double beat in that second. "Most people think I'm cold."

She shook her head. "That's because you went into the law where there is black or white, no room for color."

Alice was the most fascinating woman he'd ever met. She must spend her evenings thinking up witty answers, and if so, he hoped she carried the pen in her purse. "Will you come inside now?"

He opened the door and said a silent prayer that she approved of the mansion he had keys for but never saw. From the living areas they could see Key Biscayne and the clear blue bay of Miami. He flipped on the lights and she followed him into his house. "Okay, but John, I can't stay long. I have no idea how I'm going to explain this to my mother."

They weren't in high school anymore. He spun on his heel. "We're adults, Alice."

She sighed and ignored the house. Her stare was on his face, and his entire body lit up from her interest. "I moved home to take care of my father after his heart attack. Now Mom and Dad are moving to the beach. Besides, until I'm married and with children of my own, then there's no excuse with her."

He'd marry her tomorrow if it meant she'd never disappear, but now wasn't the time to say that. Instead he tugged on his ear and went into the kitchen. He'd get wine and help her unwind. "I wish I had your mom."

She rubbed her arms and walked into the living room. The ocean was dark now as evening fell, but tomorrow with the sunshine, life would be good. Alice's smile kept his every attention. She was beautiful in her black dress with the sweetheart neckline that modestly hid her curves.

# Chapter 11

This mansion with the view of the bay made Alice's body tremble. She hadn't been in a home this austere since she'd picked up Victoria from her father's house to go to school. Modern art gave splashes of color on the walls, but the entire space was sterile and lifeless. Alice rubbed her arms. She couldn't live without warmth for long. Unlike his family, hers was in her life and not going anywhere. Her parents and brother checked on her every day.

John called out from the right, "Are you hungry?"

He must be in the kitchen. She turned and followed his voice, but then her phone rang. She saw her mother's number. Her heart raced as she answered, "Mom?"

"Where are you? Are you okay? I saw the news."

Alice touched the pendant. She couldn't lie to her mother, ever, and she wouldn't start now. She gazed out a window that overlooked the blue water. "I'm fine. I can't come home tonight."

"Why? What happened?"

Alice had no idea how to explain. She wasn't a child, but her mother was the closest thing she'd had to a friend for some time. She held her breath and chose her words with care. "Someone was shot at the funeral."

Her mother's voice had an edge of steel. "Come home. I want you here."

Alice paced back to the living room. "Mom, I'm fine."

"Then why aren't you with your family?"

"It's complicated."

"Which of those Morgan brothers is trying to steal you?"

Score one. Alice gritted her teeth and cleared her throat. "Mom...."

"You'd be home if that wasn't the case. Peter is just like his father and you never liked Jennifer. John?"

"That's not it." Alice should have moved out long ago. Her mother had no idea. Other women her age moved to the city and had sex every night, maybe even with a different guy. Alice swallowed. Her television probably lied about that life, but that didn't stop how her face heated. "Mom, I'm staying with John tonight."

The disgust in her mom's voice was palpable. "Where? I'm coming to get you."

This wasn't happening. Alice went back to pacing. "I can take care of myself, Mom. Victoria is alive."

"Don't divert this conversation."

She envisioned her mother with her arms crossed and blowing smoke like a dragon. "It's true. Vicki is alive."

"Is she there? Put her on the phone."

Alice knew her mother had her hand on her hip like she didn't believe a word. Alice shook her head and swayed on her feet. "That wasn't on the news?"

"I don't believe you. If you don't tell me where you are, I'm calling the police."

Dad's health meant Alice had spent too long at home. To help. She remembered the four wonderful years she'd been away to college when no one questioned anything she did. "Mom, I'm fine. I'll explain everything soon."

"You'd better. If John hurts you then I'm having your father shoot him."

This was ridiculous. Alice lifted her chin. "You're being silly. Don't include Dad in your insanity. We want him to live a nice long life."

"You were holding John's hand and the news reporter said you were his girlfriend."

She swallowed. Reason always won with her mother. "Stop. You know better. The last time I saw any of them was at Vicki's funeral. Right now, what I do doesn't concern you."

"Yes it does. I'm your mother."

This conversation was too much. "And I'm an adult." Alice hung up, shaking her head. So much for being reasonable. She put her phone on the small end table by the couch and turned back toward the windows.

If this were a week later, then her mother wouldn't even know that Alice hadn't returned home. She'd be at her own condo in Brickell and living a city life. Her temples ached.

John's arm brushed against her back. She closed her eyes and the scent of cedar and pine filled her nostrils. She leaned into his back as he rubbed her shoulders.

"That didn't sound like a fun conversation."

"Did you know we're dating?"

He massaged her shoulders. "We are?"

His hands took away some of the stiffness in her back and her body grew warm and soft. "It was on the news."

He stopped, and her body craved the warmth of his touch. "And your mother wouldn't approve."

Her mother didn't matter. Alice stepped out of his strong personal space, and turned to gaze into his blue eyes. She played with her necklace and ignored how her heart and body acted like she had no cares near him. "I'm famished. What's for dinner?"

His dimples appeared as if he was amused that she changed the topic. "I'm having food brought in."

She rolled her eyes and pretended shock as she covered her lips. "The refrigerator isn't well stocked? Will a country's children starve because the House of Morgan isn't satisfied?"

"You were nicer at the church."

Score one for him. Alice swallowed as she realized how deep her mother's words scarred her. Plus her Cinderella fantasy was just that. She couldn't stay near the hottest man she ever met without being affected. He was a crush, and she didn't do carefree and meaningless anything. She hugged her waist. "I was free then."

"You'll be free again as soon as we catch the shooter."

She looked out over the dark bay. "I have to go home tomorrow."

"It might not be possible."

Turning toward him with a pleading expression, she blinked against his hypnotic blue gaze. "If I can't go by myself, then _you_ have to take me."

"Why?"

One moment with John and her mother in the same room would kill any amorous thoughts he might have toward her. Perhaps then she could be friends with him, but Alice wouldn't be another random woman in his bed. "Because I don't want to alienate my family the way yours is."

He slipped out of his black suit jacket. "My world has spun on its heels."

His world and her world had collided and Alice lost her own sense of balance. He came closer to her. She stepped backwards and placed her hands behind her back. "Did you join the FBI to punish your father?"

He unbuttoned the bottom of his shirt near his wrists. "You ask too many questions. But yeah, I wanted to arrest Mitch."

She smiled and waited to see his dimples in return. When she saw those cute indentations, she nodded. "Tell my mom about your job if you have to take me home tomorrow."

She should stay with him indefinitely and not tell her mother anything. He loosened his black tie. "Alice, we're not really together—why am I explaining anything to your mother?"

Her mother was her friend, and by next week Alice would be free of parental interference like most twenty-somethings. Besides, her mother only became prickly when the Morgan name was mentioned. She was usually cool as a cucumber. "Because if you intend to keep me here we have to tell her why, and if she knows that you are an FBI agent, that will ease her mind. I don't want her worried someone might shoot me because of you."

He undid the top button of his shirt. "Then I'll tell her we're getting married."

The House of Morgan and her family would never blend. Her face heated. Her mother might pass out cold. "Don't you dare. My mom has old-fashioned ideas on forever."

His eyebrow quirked and his dimples grew wider. "Why not?"

She tried to untangle her legs to prove she wasn't stuck permanently in one spot. This made her sway. "Marriage isn't something you should joke about."

He crossed his arms and stared at her. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

She shrugged and mimicked his body language. "What if I did?"

"Then I'd have to prove he's the wrong choice."

Her jaw dropped. John Morgan could have any girl he'd ever desire and last night he'd turned her down. She'd not repeat that scene. Her eyebrows quirked. "And you're the right one?"

He rubbed his temples like he was confused. "Don't spin this conversation."

"You're bringing up marriage and my love life." Her arms flew outward, away from her as she anchored her feet into the ground. "And I'm not. You frustrate me."

"I'd rather kiss you."

She slipped out of her high heels as she gripped the edge of the table. "I can't. Not until I can center myself without swaying like the wind can push me around. You confuse me."

He let out his own breath. "That makes two of us."

She needed space and a bucket of ice to cool her heated body down. "John, where is my bedroom? I should go."

He gestured toward a long hall. "I don't know. I never lived here. Pick whatever you want."

She turned and started down the massive mansion hall that might rival the Hall of Mirrors in Versailles. Again, this house was a showpiece and not a home. The coldness returned. She rubbed her arms and let her body cool. "Which one is yours so I don't take that one?"

He shrugged. "I've never slept here, so I don't have one."

She refused to turn around and stare at him. Instead, she took one step forward and glanced at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were rosy. He saw how she reacted.

She carried her heels by two fingers, her soles cool against the marble floor. She turned her head to the side and called out, "I need twenty minutes to close my eyes and lose my headache."

"Dinner will be here when you're hungry, Alice."

She opened the second door and slipped into a bedroom. She closed the door behind her and rested her head on the wood. She'd never survive staying here for more than one night. Her crush on John Morgan needed to fizzle out as fast as it sparked back. She hadn't thought about him since he left for college years ago, and now she was out of control.

The offer of that kiss had her lips tingling with desire. She wouldn't kiss him again, but her body ached to do so much more.

# Chapter 12

An hour later, a Morgan security guard dropped off supplies. The man's identification checked out, but John still went through each bag of food and clothing, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

He put together a suitcase full of clothes and left it in front of Alice's bedroom door. John knocked and listened, hearing the splash of water from a shower in the background.

The shower didn't turn off, so Alice must not have heard his knock. He walked down the hall.

Today had been surreal. John put his clothes in the room he'd chosen across the hall, then went to the kitchen and put the two-month supply of groceries away.

They didn't have to go anywhere for a while, though she'd insist on going to her parents. He had to convince her to stay. How? The thought of going into her room to seduce her set his body on fire.

He wouldn't follow that thought, so he popped open a beer and took a sip. The brew did little to appease his mood so he picked up his phone, wondering if Vicki had one. He'd been so busy he hadn't asked. He swallowed and then called the Castle.

On the second ring, his brother answered, "Where did you disappear?"

No amount of beer would lessen the pain of this conversation. John drank, but the ale had a bitterness to it. "I went to the house dad gave me."

"With Alice?"

His grip on the bottle tightened. There had been no reason for Peter to cancel Alice's contract at the funeral. "Don't mention her name."

"I'm surprised. I never would have guessed she was your type."

Peter had the worst taste in women. John's spine straightened. Peter's disapproval could rot right next to their father's grave. Alice wasn't the topic of this conversation. He directed the dialogue. "Do you have Victoria with you?"

"Of course. She's my responsibility."

John pressed his lips together. That comment reeked of power, control, and all things taught in the House of Morgan. He found his FBI voice and regained his composure. "Put her on the phone."

"Yeah. Hold on."

Perhaps his brother's imitation of their father's voice was breeding, but the tone made John's entire body clench. His demeanor relaxed the moment Victoria uttered her first syllable. "Hey, you."

He placed his bottle on the table and flexed his fingers. "Can you talk?"

"I'm going to a guest room right now." Vicki sounded bubbly, calm, and alive. "Peter turned my bedroom into a gym."

John rubbed the back of his neck. "We thought you had died."

She clicked her tongue, and he smiled. "Don't defend him. I expected a shrine with a plaque on the door."

At least he wasn't alone anymore. The only person in the Morgan household who ever had a heart was his sister. In the distance he heard Alice's bedroom door open. He stood up and leaned against the window that overlooked the bay. "Why didn't you call and tell me you were alive?"

Outside the ocean waves could be heard, but night made the view of the water so black that the moon reflected in the ripples. He traced the moon with his fingers in the glass as she explained. "I needed to disappear."

"Where were you?"

"Europe."

She sounded evasive. He stared down the hall. Alice's suitcase had disappeared. He couldn't see her, but his sister's words played in his ear. "Care to be more specific?"

"Not over the phone. I'm happy I'm home. When did you start dating Alice?"

He tugged his collar. Alice's kiss played in his memory. He'd kiss her again, but keep that under wraps until he knew she was safe. His gut churned knowing that the danger was because of him.

"I asked you a question, bro."

Bro was so Miami. He smiled and realized his sister was still the same. "You can ask her, later. She's sleeping."

"She was always a sweetie who did the right thing. I missed Alice and you. I'm glad you had each other."

He wouldn't disillusion Vicki yet, and the image of Alice in his arms again burned in his skull. The hallway stayed silent. "I spent the past few years blaming Dad and wanting to avenge you."

"I love you, John."

He blinked. Vicki was another reason to stay in Miami and she'd answer all his questions once they were alone. He dropped his arm to his side. "I love you too."

A door clicked closed in the distance. Alice must have retrieved her suitcase and gone back in her room. He turned on his heel and walked into the living room. His sister said, "I should have called you sooner."

He nodded though she couldn't see him. "You should have."

"I want to see you and Alice tomorrow."

"Maybe. Let's play it by ear. I might have to take her to her parents' place."

His sister sighed. "I'm sure with Dad's funeral and the shot into the glass door, they'd want to check every inch of her body to make sure she's okay. I'd do that if my... I always wished our dad was like either of her parents."

His sister took the words right out of his mouth. "You're here now and with the family you have. Don't run away on us again."

"I won't. And I'll text you the second I get my own phone."

A knock sounded at the door and Peter's voice echoed through the phone. "In two days we're reading Dad's will. Tell John he should be here."

Their sister shouldn't be reduced to the buffer zone, but he couldn't have a conversation with Peter yet. Peter would want answers on what he'd do with his life. John sucked in his breath. "Tell Peter I might."

She astutely added, "John, you're both my brothers. We're all that's left, and I don't want to live with everyone throwing daggers at each other anymore."

John's neck heated. "No one's sharpened any blades, Vicki."

"Then let's start acting like a family who loves each other."

He could see in his mind's eye his sister with her arms crossed. He smiled but then stopped himself. "Whatever Dad did to you, Peter must have known about it."

"No. I don't believe that. So I'll see you for sure in two days. Tell Alice's parents hello for me, and I'm calling tomorrow to get her number from you."

She evaded too many questions. Something wasn't right with why she left and never came back. He'd get the truth out of her, but for now he stared down the hall. "Night."

Vicki hung up.

Just knowing that Alice was here in the house brought warmth to his chilled heart.

# Chapter 13

Alice opened the suitcase as John's "I love you" replayed in her ears. He was probably talking to Vicki, but her mind had flashed to the question of a girlfriend. As far as she recalled back in high school and college, he had never cheated on his girlfriends.

She unzipped all the containers that contained her overnight necessities as she decided that it definitely had been Victoria. Her mind still reeled on how someone dead just walked through the door without an explanation. Okay, they'd run off fast after the shooting incident, but like John, Alice wanted to know how Vicki had come back to life.

She flipped through the clothes and realized everything was both designer and in her size. The House of Morgan knew how to provide for their guests. The last designer dress Alice owned was something bought for her to be Victoria's escort to a Hollywood premiere. She found a light t-shirt and a pair of jeans, threw them on, and turned on her bare heel to go speak to John.

The hall was quiet as she approached.

He was in the dark living room staring out at the night. His muscular frame sat straight in the chair as he sipped a beer. Her heart did a pitter-patter in her chest as she took the seat next to him. "Do you have something to drink? I'm thirsty."

He turned and stared hard at her. He must have heard her coming. Alice expected his tone to be harsh and guarded, but then he took a swallow from his bottle of beer. "Are you still upset at me?"

She studied the tile to get her bearings, determined to be honest. In high school, she'd envisioned a fairy-tale life that money like her friend's might create and how miserable her friend was. "I don't want to be here and live in some bubble as if the real world doesn't exist."

His bare feet came into view as he stood. She lifted her face to him as he smiled. "I'll get you a drink. Are you hungry?"

Her stomach growled and her hands clutched her stomach to somehow muffle the sound. "A little. We never had the chance to eat at the funeral."

Death was a strange way to start a conversation. She gulped. He walked toward the kitchen. She stared at his strong backside and then jumped to follow him. She leaned against the doorway as he fixed her a plate of fully cooked chicken marsala and linguini. "When did you have time to cook?"

He shrugged as he placed the plates on the table. "I had security drop off supplies and that included a hot meal for tonight."

She stepped closer and turned around in the kitchen. Once again the Morgan family took care of details that took time out of the day for mere mortals like her. She sighed. "Add a glass of white wine and I promise I'll be nice."

He winked. "Deal."

John opened a drawer, revealing a full wine rack with a large selection of white to red. "Any particular kind?"

A genuine smile broke free as she brushed her hip against his leg. "Moscato. I've been feeling sweet lately."

"It's because you are sweet."

She shook her head, but said with a smile, "No flirting."

His gaze went up and down her body as he took stock of her figure in the designer jeans and cotton tee. "Why not?"

She picked up the wineglass and stepped back. "'Cause you confuse me. My real life is much different than your reality."

"I've been shot at a few times in the past few years."

She winced. "I was trying not to think about that."

He poured a glass for himself and then added a cork to the bottle. He clinked glasses with her. "It's why I'm keeping you here."

She sipped her wine and her face heated. She licked her lips to get the taste off. "Let's not talk about it."

He leaned one hand against the kitchen counter. "Okay. So how is my life different from yours?"

Sipping from the glass she cupped in her hands, Alice said, "I expect to work. I don't choose a career as payback to my father. I have to look after myself."

John tilted his head. "You work for your parents."

She lowered the glass to the counter, her hands resting on the granite. "They need me. My dad's heart condition changed everything. When Colt comes home, he's going to manage the farm and land. I studied business in college so I could ensure our farm stayed profitable even if we lost your family's accounts. Somehow we have to make this work."

He licked a drop of wine from his lower lip and her body tingled. "If you didn't need to do that anymore for them, what would you do?"

He'd turned the tables on her. She shrugged and relaxed as she stepped back. "Get a job. Part of me wishes I worked in my own store, perhaps doing something crafty to sell online, but I don't know what I'd do."

He picked up their wineglasses and walked past her, gesturing for her to go into the living area. She passed him and he followed. "Don't be like my family."

She gazed over her shoulder. "We never could be."

He seemed to dissect every word, listening intently as he joined her on the couch. "I don't understand. So why would you go into business if not to make serious money?"

He'd probably had at-home lessons from his father on how to succeed no matter what, even if that meant destroying everyone else who got his way. Alice touched his hand and tried to make him understand her family's philosophy. "Business is to help us have a happy family life and give back to the community where we live. Plus everyone needs to work and then retire. We all grow old, John. We don't all want to be your dad."

He leaned his arms on his knees and stared out the dark windows toward the moon. "I quit the FBI."

She licked her lips. Part of her hoped to beg for a kiss, but he didn't even glance her way. "You said that. Why?"

He turned and his blue eyes had a fire inside them that burned. "I can't arrest a ghost."

She nodded and rubbed his knee. "What will you do then?"

He stared at her hand so she stopped. "I have some ideas, but I could use someone good with numbers on my team."

Her skin heated from his gaze. "Is that a job offer?"

His hand brushed against her leg, and she blushed. She knew what she must look like as he said, "Would you want that to be?"

She took his hand in hers. "You like pulling the rug out from underneath my feet, John."

His lips were so close to hers. She closed her eyes as he said, "I like to see you happy."

She'd be his if he took her. She had no control and wished he'd take everything she had. His lips came closer as she said, "You don't know me."

He took the glass from her hand. She opened her eyes as he placed both wineglasses on the coffee table. Then his lips came back to hers. "I know plenty."

The brush of his lips on hers sent a spark down her spine and into her soul. Her fingers curled around his coarse light brown hair as she turned her face to accept a deeper kiss.

John didn't disappoint. His tenderness was her undoing and she sighed his name.

She had a strong sense of her own heartbeat as he sat back.

Every nerve tingled as he handed her back the glass of wine. She lifted her chin and took another sip.

He stared hard at her but she couldn't read him. All around her was the smell of cedar and pine. The waves of the ocean lapped in the distance beyond the window, and she turned her gaze away. "How will you protect me if you quit your job and someone is after you?"

His dimples appeared as he scratched the back of his head. "You'll let me?"

If she stayed here, she'd be mush. Without her spine, she wouldn't last long against John's charm. She sipped the last bit of her wine. "I'm here for the night. This can't be long-term."

His hand went to her arm, but she brushed him off. He stayed still. "I have security here, but I don't want to let you go."

If that were true, she'd have no clothes on right now. Perhaps she wasn't thinking clearly at the moment. "Why?"

"You bring color into my life and I like it."

That was like a movie line where she'd moan over true love with her friends. Her body craved him. "So everything was black and white before now?"

"More like gray. I'd like to discover what makes you happy."

Alice swallowed hard. She ached with need for him, but she knew she'd never survive being one night's worth of fun with John, not if she had to see him day after day. "Tomorrow."

He stayed seated as she stood and smoothed her jeans. "Is that a promise?"

John got to his feet but kept his distance. Perhaps she shouldn't play with this much fire. "It's just a date, nothing more."

A date would play in her fantasies for years to come. His blue eyes seemed to swim with desire, but she dared not. She hugged her waist as he called for her to come back. "Alice...."

She jumped backwards. No. She wouldn't do anything else. She'd survive her crush and then move on with her life. She ran down the hall away from him as she called behind her, "Night, John."

Alice stopped at her bedroom door and watched him take the dishes into the kitchen. She closed it behind her and tried to breathe.

John Morgan was everything she'd never have.

# Chapter 14

Alice awoke from a dream. She'd been at an office desk, wearing a pencil skirt, hair up, black high heels and a white button-down blouse. She sat across from John Morgan, in a pin-striped navy business suit that clung to his muscles as he winked at her. She swallowed back the visual and wiped the sleep from her eyes. That was a dream she'd never experience. She stretched and then went to the suitcase of clothes.

She chose a sleeveless black cotton dress and crossed her fingers that her mother believed this was in her bag already. Ellie Collins wouldn't know Versace from Walmart, and the knee length was typical.

Today she would go back to the farm, with or without John Morgan at her side. No one uninvited had come to this house last night, so the threat must have been against the President and not John or her as he'd supposed.

It was time to reclaim her life and identity.

She slipped out of the bedroom and made her way to the kitchen.

John's broad shoulders and muscular frame sent a fire through her as he called out from the open refrigerator door, "Morning. I'm getting breakfast."

She went on her tiptoes and then fell on her heels as if movement might stop her lust. She turned toward the kitchen table. "Okay. Did my SUV get transferred here from the parking lot?"

He closed the refrigerator and had a bowl of fruit in his hand. She tried hard not to stare at him until he shrugged. "No."

She wouldn't get stuck with him another day. She couldn't handle it. "Can you drive me to get it?"

"No."

He seemed to be the "king of no" this morning. She took a seat at the round glass-topped table as he brought over the fruit. His clear blue eyes made her tingle. "The threat must not have been against you," she said. "I agreed to one night, not a lifetime."

He walked away, brought over toast, and returned to the table. John slid a plate in front of her as her stomach tied in knots. Even-toned, he said, "You don't know if it was against me or not."

"I didn't hear any disturbances last night. No one came here."

He sat to her right, acting like everything was perfectly normal. "That's because this house is secure."

She squirmed in her seat. She couldn't stay this close to him and not desire more. "Why, because it's yours?"

He poured himself a glass of milk as his shoulders relaxed. "Yeah."

Her spine stiffened. "I'm going home. I'll take a taxi."

He picked up his coffee cup as if it might shield him. "You'd be in danger."

She affected him, too. "It's my life."

He rubbed his eyes. "What's so important at the farm? You said you could work from anywhere. I can have a new laptop here in less than an hour."

The image of her mother's permanent scowl appeared in Alice's mind. "My family. They will want to see me and my dad won't rest easy if he's worried about me after what he saw on the news."

"You said you were moving out and that next week you would have your own condo."

Her body softened. Her stomach wasn't so bad now. She nodded. "I did. Families care about each other, John. I don't want to put them in danger...."

He scooted his seat closer and placed his hand on hers. Her heartbeat became the only sound she heard until he said, "So stay here."

If she stayed, she'd hope to do things she couldn't handle. John Morgan was larger than life, and not for a farmer's daughter. "I can't. They will want to see I'm okay."

"Why not?"

Because she wanted him to take her to bed. She coughed and said, "It's not right, but I still remember how weak my dad was the day he had his heart attack. I can't cause anything like that to happen to him."

His hand feathered up and down her arm, making her feel important. If he kissed her, she'd melt. All he said though was, "If we stay here, it's closer to where you intend to move."

She took her hands back and pushed her hair out of her face. "This is _your_ house."

"I've never lived here before."

He'd told her that already. Her lips ached for another kiss. She averted her gaze. "Why do you want me to move in so bad?"

"I don't want you hurt because of me."

Her body cooled down. He didn't say he had to have her. That he desired her. She should have expected she was a responsibility. "I'll be fine."

"I need you here."

Her face heated as she dared to hope. "Why?"

"They're reading my father's will tomorrow. Now that I quit the FBI and plan to move back here, I need to keep the people I trust close."

Her heart soared at the fact that he trusted her, which was silly. She tried to sound calm and rational. "Sounds like you have big decisions to make."

His blue eyes melted her the second she stared into his gaze. "All I'll think about is you if you go. If you stay, then I'll know you're safe and I won't have to worry."

She sighed. She'd do whatever he wanted. He had to know that. "Do you want me with you because you need a friend, John?"

He sat back in his chair like she was the bee that stung him. He mumbled, "I guess. Is that bad?"

She poured some orange juice, wondering what she'd done to bring his guard back up. "No, but why me? You have your choice of women—you always did."

He leaned closer. Alice smelled the cedar and pine of his aftershave. "I'm comfortable with you."

She'd _comfort_ him? She'd drink in the sweet nectar of his kiss and then crave so much that she'd lose herself in him. "So I'm like a worn tennis shoe that's been around the House of Morgan so you know I'll survive if something explodes?"

His brow wrinkled as if she said the craziest thing he ever heard. "You're neither old nor a tennis shoe, but I like you here."

Like. The word reverberated in her ear. They were friends. Just friends. Alice wouldn't let her crush get away with her better judgment. She'd be fine. Alice swallowed and then stared into his open, clear blue eyes. "Okay, but this is just for the week. I need to go to my own place after the closing."

His dimples appeared as he smiled. "You'll stay here, then."

She ran her hands through her hair to cradle the back of her skull and massage her scalp. "If you take me home, bring my car here for later, and somehow we explain to my mother that you're not after my virtue."

He laughed and picked up his milk. "Virtue?"

She sighed. John Morgan would never understand. "Mom is old school."

He licked his lips and the fire inside her grew again. He said, "I promise to behave."

She buried her feelings and held out her hand with her finger outstretched. "Pinky swear."

He stared at her hand and her. "What?"

She met his gaze with as much steel as she could muster in hers. "Pinky swear. We were friends once."

He took her hand and kissed her finger. "That was my sister and you."

She would never forget his tenderness. "So we're not friends now?"

His voice had a gravely sound that etched itself in her heart. "I don't know what we are, but 'friends' sounds way too innocent."

He lifted their hands and she locked her small finger with his and waved their hands up and down in a handshake. "It's a deal."

Lying to herself, she repeated that she was an adult and one day she'd get over her crush on John. The thought didn't ring true, but there was nothing else to do without possibly putting her family in danger.

# Chapter 15

John's five o'clock shadow tickled his face as he started the car toward her family farm. He should have shaved this morning. He grimaced as he realized his Mercedes wouldn't like the dirt roads, but he kept that to himself. If he had his car in Atlanta, he'd have his shaving kit with him.

Alice sang along to the radio, and his heart grew lighter. Twenty-four hours with most women was torture, but Alice was unlike every other woman he'd met.

She wasn't needy and was generally happy.

The song changed and she adjusted herself in the seat. "My mother will want to hug me, and I'll grab a few personal things. Try not to speak to her if possible, but don't be rude. I won't leave you alone with her for too long."

Her big blue eyes implored him as he turned down a side street. He'd do what he could to ensure that her mother approved. "I can handle your mother."

She shrugged, but then bounced in the seat to the new song. "You have no idea what you're saying. We'll be fast."

Unlike most people he met, Alice clearly loved her family and worried about them. He drove along a paved road bearing a sign for her family farm. "I can bring down major criminals. Your mother won't be a problem."

"My mother is dramatic and over the top. Just remember her opinions have never been mine or Colt's."

He smiled. Colt had been the star of the high school football team. "Your brother was the quarterback of the team."

She nodded. "And you were a lineman. We were at your games. My mom, in time, will remember that about you. She isn't always a hater."

"Hater?" He faced her as his jaw ticked. Hate wasn't something easily brushed aside. His gaze narrowed. "How?"

She closed her eyes as if carefully choosing her words. "She resents your family. Told me to kick over your father's casket at the funeral."

A laugh escaped his lips and then he turned onto a dirt road toward her farm. "I'd have kissed you if you had."

Her cheeks turned red, as if she was embarrassed. "Stop. That's not helping."

He reached out with one hand and squeezed her arm. "Your mother will like me."

Her pretty mouth parted and she shook her head. "You're part of the House of Morgan."

"That's the stupid way we were taught to say family."

Alice sat up straight in the leather seat. "It's intimidating."

He clutched the wheel tighter. "Just imagine if your father drilled it in your head."

"That would have sucked."

John nodded at the white house with blue trim in the distance as the Mercedes bounced along the dirt road. Debris flew in the air behind them. "Doesn't matter. Is this your place?"

She scooted forward. "Yeah, this is the local base of the Collins Organic Farm. Our orange trees are up north."

He replayed all the houses of all the people he arrested in his mind as he sniffed the orange scented air. He had never arrested anyone on a farm. The few plantation style homes in the South he'd been on didn't grow anything. John parked the Mercedes behind a pickup truck. Alice frowned. "Colt's truck is gone."

They had been teammates but Colt had never been his friend. John remembered her brother as a good leader. He also remembered the brown-haired, brown-eyed intensity Colt had used to intimidate the other team. "Does this mean your brother is back from the Marines?"

She opened the car door and got out. "He was due back. Let's go see."

Alice eased as she spoke about Colt. Her family might like to know his intentions. John's plan became more tangible and palatable. He'd reassure them that he'd keep her safe. Clouds gathered in Alice's eyes. He reached over to touch her shoulder. "Alice, don't forget—you are going home with me as you promised."

She turned on her heel and didn't smile at him as she stepped onto her patio. Her hair blew in the warm breeze, making her even prettier as she called over her shoulder, "Let's go, John."

He followed the sway of her hips. "Other than my family, you're the only person who calls me that."

She blinked as if he'd said something stupid. "It's your name."

He caught her elbow to stop her. "Morgan is the label. Take my hand."

She let him lead her as her other hand fell to her side. "My mother—"

He squeezed her arm. "Is not your keeper anymore, Alice."

Her small hand slipped into his, and her face flushed. Without another word, she turned and guided him into her house. At the door she called out, "Mom, we're here."

Her hand stayed in his and she didn't let go. John gazed around the empty farmhouse, saw how spacious and warm the empty walls felt. Outlines remained where pictures had recently hung. The windows still held yellow curtains, though most of the house was packed into piles of boxes along the walls.

He had never been here to see what her home looked like before, but his mind noted the difference between a real home and a show house.

A moment later, an older lady with Alice's nose and profile walked in the room. She stopped and placed a hand on her hip. "We?"

Alice's face paled, but she eyed her mother. "Yeah, we. John brought me home."

Her mother's arms crossed. "You have the SUV."

John stepped forward. Alice looked weather-beaten. "She does, ma'am."

"I'm Mrs. Collins to you." Her mother shook her head. "Don't pretend to have manners. It's doubtful anyone in your family taught you any."

Manners ensured that his father made a business deal. He bowed but stayed next to Alice. "True."

"Mom, your name is Ellie, and that was so rude." Alice's voice shook.

Ellie Collins tapped her foot on the floor. "And don't pretend to agree with me."

Alice had been one hundred percent correct in her description of her feisty mom.

"Mom, where are both trucks?"

John turned toward her with a grateful smile. She'd changed the course of the conversation.

Her mother fisted her hands on her hips and looked out the picture window. "Your father will be here shortly. He went to the doctor. Colt took Clara north to check on the orange crops."

"Colt made it home?"

"Yes. He flew in yesterday, as he knew how worried we were about you."

"Was Clara glad to see him?"

"Of course."

Alice smiled, dropped his hand, and took a step forward. "Great. I'll just go pack a few things, so we can get going."

"We?" Her mother practically jumped in her way. "Pack? This is your home."

Alice walked around her. "Yeah. We're moving anyhow, so I'm staying with John for the next few days."

Her mother made the sign of the cross even though she was never religious. "Excuse me."

Alice's hands clenched and she met her mother's gaze head-on. "Did something happen to your hearing?"

She didn't need to get defensive. John coughed. "Mrs. Collins, I need to make sure Alice is safe."

Her mother held her head high. "We look after our own here."

Then she reached over and patted her daughter like a trained nurse as she searched for battle wounds.

"The shooter might be after your daughter personally." His gaze went toward Alice who took a deep breath. "This is bigger than hating me."

"We'll keep her safe."

"She's safest with me until we locate the shooter."

Alice went to her room. This time her mother didn't stand in the way. Instead Ellie came toward him, and her hand went to her hip once again. "How? My husband was in the Marines and my son is fresh out. We can handle things just fine without a Morgan as our overlord and master."

At her door, Alice called out behind her, "Mom. Dad has a heart condition, and you are so out of line."

She half-turned around, but then John said, "Mrs. Collins, I intend to marry Alice."

"What?" both women said in unison. Alice came out of her room as her mother's eyebrows lifted.

The words flew out of his mouth, unplanned, but he recognized the truth. Alice would be his forever. John pressed his lips together, nodded, and stared into Mrs. Collins' brown eyes.

He'd marry Alice. It had more appeal than years in the FBI. Alice's blue eyes misted. Her mother's brown eyes held streaks of fire in them. "Alice Collins will make a beautiful bride."

Her mother shouted, "She's not a toy you just pick up and then toss away when you're done. Her life is valuable and far more than you deserve."

Dramatic and powerful. He'd have paid to see Mrs. Collins tell off his father years ago. If he had known she existed, he might not have joined the FBI. He swallowed. "I agree."

Then her mother stared back and forth between them. She sniffed the air as if smelling for the truth. "My daughter doesn't have a ring on her finger."

Alice took a step closer. "Stop, Mom."

John breathed deep and nodded. "She hasn't said yes, yet."

This all had to be a cruel joke. Her insides quaked that he might hurt her mother with this wordplay. Alice shouted at him, "John, I told you not to tell her."

Her mother spun to greet her with her arms crossed. "You knew he intended to marry you."

Alice threw her hands in the air, but her eyes still held shock and disbelief. "Be right back. I'm getting my bag."

Alice stormed off. Her mother stayed right on her heels into her bedroom. "I'll help you." She shut the door.

John realized that his heart wasn't racing. If he married Alice, then he'd have what he always wanted, a place where he belonged with someone who made him feel warm as he started his own business.

Alice would make a perfect wife.

# Chapter 16

Alice's mother slammed the bedroom door. "You cannot marry him."

She found her suitcase in the closet and kept her gaze on the bag. "Mom, you're being overdramatic, as usual."

Ellie walked in front of the dresser drawers, so Alice returned to her closet to get her dresses for the bag. "I'll die right here, in this very spot. My daughter is marrying the enemy."

Alice wasn't really engaged, but that wasn't the point. She threw her clothes in the bag. "John is not my enemy, and you're healthy."

Alice turned around and glared at the dresser with her stuff. She crossed her arms until her mother stepped aside. "Alice, the Collins' and the Morgans should not mix. You're my only daughter. I can't lose you too."

Alice stormed past her and opened the drawer with her bras and underwear. Luckily most of her stuff was already in storage for her move next week. Colt officially took possession of the house as soon as the rest of them moved out. She scooped up the last of her clothes and huffed by. "Mom, I'm an adult. You haven't lost any of us, and you have to trust me at some point in my life."

Her mother shook her head, not hearing a word Alice had said. "If you marry him, then you will destroy us all."

"Why, Mom? How will my marriage destroy you?"

"Mitch Morgan almost ruined us."

Her mother's flair for the dramatic made her impossible. The past was over, and the man was dead. "You didn't answer the question, Mom."

Her mother's voice became soft and it sounded like she would cry. "I can't answer that, sweetie. I need you to trust me that the House of Morgan is too big for us and that you can't get involved."

Ellie Collins would always be irrational when it came to the Morgans. Alice closed her eyes and tried to sound reasonable. She probably should tell her that it was a lie, but her mother should respect and accept her choices, whoever he might be. "John makes me feel special."

Her mother reached out to stroke Alice's hair. "You are special, but your head is being turned from the size of his bank account. John is not good for you."

"At least you remembered that his name is John, not Mitch Morgan reincarnated." Alice stepped back and refused her mother's touch. Her temper soared. "And I'm not a gold digger. Have some respect. We didn't stay at the mausoleum. John has his own house."

"I don't care if he lives on the farm next to ours." Her mother paced the room and threw her hands in the air. "He's his son, and wrong for you."

Her bedroom used to be full of all her worldly possessions, but now all that was left was an empty room with a bed. Her things were packed and gone, which told her she should pack her necessities and go too. Alice ground her heels in the floor and calmed her tone. "Mom, John's been in the FBI. He had an honest job that doesn't pay millions."

Her mother sighed. "He is young and sought adventure."

Alice rolled her eyes. Reason was not a good option. Then she took a deep breath and tried to keep the steam out of her voice. "I doubt that."

"And now you claim Victoria is alive."

Alice squared her shoulders. "She is alive. I saw her."

"I can't take this. No one comes back from the dead." Her mother shook her head. "And if that's true, then that's more trouble for our family."

Vicki had spent years in this house, with her family, away from the House of Morgan. Her mother cooked dinners for them all, right in this kitchen. Alice shouted, "She was my best friend."

"I thought you outgrew your childhood fantasy to be a part of the House of Morgan."

Alice zipped up her bag and rolled it on the floor, heading toward her door. "Mom, this conversation is over."

Her mother's plea clung in the air like the heavy weight of humidity outside. "Are you leaving with him?"

Alice refused to turn back. "Yes."

"Then you are not welcome back in my house."

Alice stopped and turned. Inside every part of her wanted to shake and she'd probably cry the second she was alone. She lifted her chin to not let her mother see. "You're kicking me out of the family?"

The corner of her mother's lip ticked. "You left me with no other choice. I have to protect the rest of us."

"I'm not the enemy." Alice gripped the suitcase handle like it was a lifeline. "You can respect my choices."

Her mother's eyes misted like she was about to cry. "You don't know what you ask."

Crocodiles used tears to manipulate people, and Alice was tired of the dramatics. It was not nice to strike out like she did when upset. "And you don't explain, so there is nothing else to say."

Her mother's face grew wet and she sniffled. "Alice, your father and I will always love you. When that Morgan breaks your heart and leaves you broken, come home."

Families were supposed to trust. Her mother missed the memo. Alice's jaw began to loosen, and her eyes welled. She'd not cry in front of her mother and let her comfort her. It was all part of the plan to control, but Alice was not buying it. "You could have some faith in me."

Ellie opened her arms to hug her. "Likewise. I need you to trust me."

No. Alice stepped back and turned on her heels. Manipulation wasn't part of this. She was no longer a child. Alice left her bedroom. "Goodbye."

Alice went to the living room, where John straightened and took her bag from her. He had no idea of the drama he'd caused, but she decided she'd deal with him later. Right now, she marched for the front door. She had everything she needed to run the finances virtually. She'd never darken her mother's door again.

She let John help her, but that didn't ease the pain in her chest. Not everything in life needed to be a movie or a horrible telenovela. She turned around and glared at her mother who dried her eyes. The puppy dog look was all an act.

John placed his hand on her back. "Are you okay?"

She turned around, took his hand in hers and a spark of electricity shot through her. "Let's go."

At least, her mother said nothing else. Probably because John was a Morgan, but at the moment, Alice needed the silence.

She kept her back straight as she headed to the door. Her mother had _disowned_ her over John. The marriage comment was inappropriate, but it was time Alice made the choices in her life. Angry, she picked up her phone and blocked her mother's phone number. In a few days, she'd think about talking to her again.

John followed her and once they reached the patio, her mother slammed the door behind them.

John's hand on her back made her skin prickly. She'd get no peace. She didn't budge or move from her spot in the driveway. Then he said, "So your mother didn't like me."

"I told you to keep quiet near her." She swallowed as her eyes misted but she wouldn't let her mother see her reaction. "Let's just get in the car."

"I'm sorry. I don't know why that came out of my mouth." John opened the trunk to place her bag in the back. "Are you upset?"

She hugged her arms and waited at the passenger seat for him to unlock the Mercedes. "Yes."

He rushed to her side, and the wind he created cooled her cheeks. "That wasn't my intention."

He'd lied about marriage to her mother for some reason that she couldn't even fathom. That lie was horrible, but he didn't know her mom. She kept her chin from trembling as she sucked in the inside of her cheeks. "It's not you, but what you said was wrong too. Please hurry, I don't want to cry until we're off the property."

He opened her door and she slid into her seat, her body numb. This wasn't what she'd intended. She shivered despite the heat.

John's presence set off her heart in a different way, but she was glad when he drove away from her old house.

Lies about marriage only made everything worse. Her mother was ridiculous, but then so was she. Marriage to John in jest was like being offered one piece of chocolate instead of the whole bag. They'd never be together. Kings of the world did not spend eternity with peasants and farmers.

# Chapter 17

John closed the door to his house as they parked the car in the garage and left Alice's bag beside him. Outside the walls, the security gate still closed automatically, but her ears mostly burned as she stormed down the hall. In the distance she heard John enter the house and lock the door.

First her heart had to accept her mother's actions, but what he did was wrong, on so many levels. She took a deep breath, ready to finally speak after that silent car ride, so she turned to face him though she only reached his broad shoulder. "Why did you tell my mother we're getting married?"

He covered his face with his hands as he studied her. She swore his blue eyes seemed to glow with regret. Finally he said, "I didn't. Exactly."

_What?_ "I heard you."

This was outside the box of acceptable. She shook her head. "You never asked me, and you told my mother we were. She already has a thing against your family, but this made it so much worse."

He took her hand in his. "I said I intend to marry you."

If it was anyone else, she'd take him seriously. But this was John Morgan, son of one of the wealthiest families alive, and potential heir to a business kingdom. People like him did not marry people like her, so there was no way he'd be serious about marriage. She wasn't a complete idiot. "That's insane. My mother officially wishes you dead now."

She tried to take her hand back, but he asked, "Does your mother's opinion matter so much?"

She stilled and averted her gaze. Maybe John didn't understand because he never had a family that cared. "No. Yes. I want my mother to retire and be happy with my dad while I live my own life."

His fingers traced her knuckles. "So you gave up your freedom when you moved back home?"

John would never get it. "My dad had a heart attack. Colt was serving overseas. They needed me, and when you love your family, you give up a little freedom in exchange for their well-being."

His hand left hers, and traced her face. "That's noble and sweet, and you're right. I wouldn't know how that feels."

His touch sent her body into overdrive. "John, our lives are different."

She hoped he'd rip off her clothes and take her right here, right now. She ached for another kiss, but he dropped his arms to the sides and shrugged. "Our lives shaped us, but they don't define our future."

She caught herself from forgiving him carte blanche. Her lusty thoughts for John clouded her judgment, again. She rubbed her neck and tried to cool down. Her mother fit into the Morgan family. "True. I don't want to talk about my mother and her dramatics anymore. We go to _your family_ tomorrow."

He reached backwards and picked up her bag. She followed him down the long hall as he said, "Yeah we do. The reading will not be fun."

She must have misread him earlier. He hadn't even thought about a kiss. "Are you sure you want me there?"

He turned around at her bedroom door and she gazed right into his clear blue eyes. "Victoria asked for you."

John opened her door and dropped the bag on the inside. She stepped closer to him and caught his hand in hers. "What about you?"

He swallowed and the smell of cedar and pine mixed in her nose. Her lips tingled in hopes of a kiss. "I don't know if I can handle being in the room with Peter," he said. "I don't know if I can trust him."

Perhaps there was a book she could read on how to get over a crush with pointers that might clear her head. Right now she was acting like some dog in heat and not herself. She stepped back and wondered if she spoke to Peter one-on-one, would that change anything with the contract? "You have to listen to your heart on that one. Is he like your father?"

John shrugged and closed her bedroom door. "He might be. I hardly know him."

She talked to Colt all the time. She watched his daughter for him without complaint. She blinked as she tried to understand. "He's your brother."

John's face turned red. "He stood right next to my father all my life. He's two years older than me, but I have no memory of Peter on his own without my father."

Strange. Colt led his own life, but she'd do whatever she could for him, too. Despite how Peter canceled their contract, family was family. "Maybe he's not that bad."

"Maybe he's worse. I don't trust him."

"Then you've made a decision."

"No, I'm just talking it through. I'm not sure how to take Peter or if I want a position in my father's company."

She reached out and touched his arm. Fireworks exploded inside her, but she stayed sharp. "You have to try. What happened to the determined guy I met at the hotel?"

He nodded. "You're right. I'd still like you with me tomorrow."

With luck his family might bond, now that Mitch was gone. "Of course. I'll be there for you. We're friends."

He turned and her back went against the wall. Her entire body ached with need as he leaned closer to her. "We're more than friends."

Her toes curled as his hands surrounded her. Her eyelashes fluttered. "I don't know, John."

He lowered his head, as if he'd like to kiss her. She closed her eyes and waited for his lips to brush against hers, again. Then he said, "I don't know what I'm doing near you."

His mouth brushed hers and she saw stars all around them. His body pressed against her and nothing else existed except the two of them.

He stepped back and looked like he was selected in a military draft, unable to escape. She tried to stand taller, but swayed on her feet from the too-brief kiss. His face was red. "Alice, you're someone who believes in happy ever after."

She shook her head, not wanting him to take on responsibility for her feelings. If she let her wild side dictate her emotions, she'd happily accept whatever small amount of time he offered her. Then she'd stop whatever fantasies she had of what might happen between them that sparked from her old crush. "I don't believe in love."

His eyebrows quirked like she said the silliest thing he ever heard. She'd straightened out her dress. She'd have to be more convincing.

"You have two stable parents."

She nodded. Parents didn't mean she was needy. "Yeah, and they love each other despite how they drive each other crazy."

His blue eyes clouded. "I never knew my mother. I have sketchy memories of a woman who might have been her, but I was two when she disappeared."

Disappearing wasn't the story that she remembered being told. She tilted her head. "Didn't she die?"

John shrugged. "So my father says. He said Vicki died too, so I don't believe anything he ever told me. Tomorrow's reading might be where he finally kicks me out of the Morgan family and does what he promised to do years ago."

His mind had to be on the reading of the will tomorrow. His father wouldn't cut him out. It would make it look like he'd been unable to keep his family, and Mitch Morgan was all about family appearances. In how many magazine pictures did Mitch Morgan present himself with his son or sons? She ran her fingers down his bare forearm and caressed the blond hairs near his wrist. "John, I don't envy you."

His dimples returned and the fire inside her flamed. "It's why I think you're the sexiest woman I ever met."

She shook her head. He was being ridiculous. "What?"

He inched forward, his hip pressing hers against the beige wall. "You are."

His hands traced her arms and her body tingled, hoping he'd kiss her again. She asked, "How?"

His head lowered and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Your blue eyes haunt my dreams. Your kiss is embedded on my lips."

John Morgan kissed her like she was the most important person in his life. Her toes curled as her entire body craved him. He tasted better than honey or chocolate or anything she'd ever had that was sweet. Then she pulled her head back and whispered, "Stop."

He froze though his blue eyes had flecks of lightning inside them. "Why?"

She tightened her hold and she tugged him close. Regrets were for tomorrow. Right now, she lived. "Because I want you to do it again."

He pressed her back against the wall, kissing her so deeply that she lost sight of everything else. All that mattered was how they'd become one.

# Chapter 18

In the kitchen, John set the table for breakfast in his designer jeans and short sleeve button up white shirt. She stood and watched him as he added coffee to a tray. Why would he take such good care of her but then interfere with her mother all at the same time? She lifted her chin. He added fruit to the tray as she walked in. With her hand on her hip, and no smile on her face, she gazed at him. "Why didn't we sleep together last night, John?"

He fixed the silverware. "You deserve better."

She came closer and placed her hand on his. His eyes met hers "How?" she asked. "Who would be better?"

Alice had to know how he felt. She deserved someone strong and capable of falling in love with her and wanting to spend the rest of his life next to her. Then he said, "I just quit my day job and I am about to start from zero."

Her gaze narrowed. "Would that bother you?"

He shrugged.

She knew Mitch Morgan had never once said a kind word to John, training Peter to be his replacement, but he hadn't cut out John either. Why would John expect him to change after death?

"I wouldn't expect anything less from dear old Dad."

She fiddled with the gold pendant Vicki gave her. Then she picked up some toast and sat. "What does that have to do with me and you and last night?"

"Everything." He stood as tall and still as one of the orange trees on the farm. "If there is to be a future, then we should know our finances."

Her mind whirled. Money was not a reason to say no to sex. "I don't care about that."

"I was cut off in all things except a bank account that was always supplied. I've never been poor a day in my life."

"What happened to the money, then, if you didn't touch it?"

"My rebellious side kicked in and I set up an investment portfolio. The millions grew much higher as my way of showing him that if he kept sending it to me, then I'd not touch a dime. I never told him though."

"So even if you get nothing, you're far from poor?"

"Let's not talk about the billion."

Wrong answer. He clearly didn't wish to clarify his vision of a future, though billion meant he could afford whatever happened to him. She picked up her toast and walked toward the garage to get in the car. "Is it empty now?"

His booted steps sounded behind her. "Absolutely not. The interest alone keeps building the stockpile."

She squared her shoulders and turned around to glare at him. Then she saw how he slumped, and her heart softened. Today he had enough on his shoulders without her adding to it. "Then it doesn't matter what is in the will."

"It matters to me."

She almost ripped open the car door and listened to the exterior house door slam as John closed and locked it before getting into the driver's seat. "Why?"

He started the car, but his body was stiff. He swallowed, refused to look at her, and backed out of the garage to the driveway. "Today we go to my brother's house. It used to be mine, too."

The will reading might be a reason for the no last night—if it weighed on his mind. She uncurled her fists, realizing she was tense, and tried to relax. She stared out the window and reminded herself that she was not Cinderella. She had her own issues to deal with, like finding a new buyer for her farm goods, and calling her brother to talk about mom.

He turned onto the highway toward Star Island. "The home where you grew up has already transformed in your mind."

His grip on the car wheel tightened. They were heading to Peter's house unusually fast for Miami, but they'd missed rush hour. "Yeah. I wouldn't call the place a home. Most days it felt like a prison."

"Most people's prisons aren't nearly so nice, and Vicki is there now. There is a reason to be happy." Alice had so many questions for her old best friend, but John's hardness right now took up all of her emotional room. She tugged her dress to her knees. "You haven't even talked to Peter yet today, and you already have that guard up. If you walk in this way, you're liable to snap."

He turned off the highway. They were close to the mansion now. Silence filled the air until he parked in front of the house that looked the same. John said, "I don't trust him."

Happy times. She had to help him stay positive. "Okay. Then who cares what you get in the will, then? Peter is the only one left."

He removed his sunglasses and tossed them on the dashboard, turning to her with his blue eyes that sparkled with righteousness. "I don't care."

"Why are you here?"

He gulped and some of the tension left his body. "Curiosity. I'd lay odds that Dad left me nothing but a note of contempt."

She shook her head. "He wouldn't."

His brow wrinkled. "How can you be sure?"

He should know his father better than her. Mitch Morgan's reputation was well known. "He wanted to be remembered as a god amongst men. I can't imagine he'd cut you out of the will. What if somebody found out?"

The last time he spoke to his father, he had accused him of murdering his sister. His father's lie included a funeral and with that track record, anything was possible in the will reading today. He sat in his seat, like her words were bullets. "I don't want to think about it."

"Let it go. We should go inside." She opened her car door. A second later he did the same and stood up. He slammed his car door. As he walked over to her, she asked, "Where do you see your sister living, once this is over?"

She accepted his offered hand, receiving strength that empowered her to do almost anything. He didn't answer her question until they'd reached the door. "Not here."

He pressed the doorbell. She fixed her dress as the walls made her feel inferior and forbidden from the entrance. "Any ideas why Vicki wanted me here?"

He turned toward her. Their gazes met. "You'll have to ask her. Please remember every word she says to you about why she pretended to be dead."

Footsteps echoed from right outside the door. She lowered her voice, "Do you want me to spy on her?"

He answered fast. "No. I want to compare notes. If something happened to her, then I want to help her if I can."

A Hispanic older woman answered the door. Alice felt a chill as they walked inside. She kept his hand in hers. "Okay. I'm not going to worry about it, but I'm hoping Jennifer isn't there."

John's hand brushed against her shoulder. "Don't let the actress get to you."

She stared at his broad chest and let his words float into her heart. He was right. "I know I shouldn't."

"I saw you handle your mother. You can handle Jennifer."

She smiled. Other than the constant teasing and lying to her mother, John Morgan tried to take care of her and watch out for her. Perhaps once this was over, she'd get answers to her own questions. "After everything goes down here, can we relax and go out to dinner? I want to go to your favorite place growing up."

Laughter echoed from upstairs. Victoria was close. John gazed up the flight of stairs, but then returned his focus on her. He lowered his voice. "That's dangerous."

The tension in the car had been palatable and Alice hoped that with the right atmosphere, he'd relax and laugh again. John had to be wrong about being a target as the FBI never called. Soon she'd end this farce, but for now, she shrugged her shoulders. "You'll protect me."

High heels clicked on the stairs above them. "Anywhere I want to go?"

Vicki's bare legs in her floral sundress came into view. Alice placed her hand on his arm. "I want to see the world you grew up in and your favorite hang outs. So take me someplace that the House of Morgan frequented without me, Vicki's tag-along."

John smiled up at Vicki and then frowned as Peter, in his usual power suit, followed right behind their sister down the flight of stairs. He scooted closer to Alice. "Vicki never said that."

Alice squeezed his hand. "Your dad did."

Peter ushered Vicki and John down the hall, but John kept Alice's hand firm in his as she shied back. "Stay with me."

Peter walked ahead of them and into the lofted ceiling dining room. Alice whispered, "You are capable of handling your brother by yourself, but I'm here if you need me."

John's shoulders were tense, as if he'd rather be anywhere else. Standing at the end of the table, Peter beckoned them into the room. "Please sit."

Alice turned around to greet her friend. Vicki had been right behind them. She raised her hand to her chin and asked, "Where is Victoria?"

Peter sat in their father's chair, and opened a file like he was about to run a business meeting. Then he arranged his seat to ensure it was more like a throne and acted like their father. "She's coming."

John followed his brother's gestures, crossed his legs like he was the challenger in a boxing room, and took a seat beside him.

Two lawyers in black suits and carrying brief cases walked into the room from the kitchen door and sat opposite them. Peter's reflection shone in the polished wood and even his posture mimicked their father as he stretched in his chair. John raised his eyebrows and asked, "Why is this so formal?"

Peter refused to answer the question. Instead his gaze met Alice's as she sat beside John. Peter then asked, "Are you sure you wish Ms. Collins to be with you right now?"

John held firm, and his gaze never wavered. He said, "Absolutely."

Peter said no more. She wasn't sure what to do, so she stayed silent. Then Vicki walked into the room and her dress floated as if she were an angel. She passed both of her brothers who offered her small smiles as she sat next to Peter. Her smile was the only warmth in the room.

Alice sat straighter in her seat as all the Morgans turned to stare at the lawyers.

One of the lawyers said, "Let's get this started."

Alice scooted her chair so her hand could stay in John's. The chair squeaked as she moved and everyone glanced at her. Her face heated, but she said nothing. John's fingers locked with hers.

The lawyer continued and read the will as the other took notes on a yellow sheet of paper. "Being of sound mind and in the presence of witnesses, I hereby bequeath my estate as follows."

John shook his head. "This should be so much fun."

Peter's entire body stilled. Whatever the paper said affected him the most, at least in Alice's view. He placed both his hands on the table as he whispered, "Don't be a hypocrite. We skipped the burial."

John's eyebrows quirked. "Because someone might shoot us."

"Neither of us wanted to be there."

"To my son, John..."

John's hand tugged on hers, and she tried to be his rock.

He held his head high as the lawyer said, "He never proved in his life that he could take care of himself or anyone else. I leave him one hundred million dollars and ten percent stock in all my companies, so he'll never have to."

John released her hand, his body so tight if he turned he might break. "I always loved the faith he had in me."

Alice massaged his leg until he took her hand again and then whispered to him. "John, don't worry about what he thought."

Their knees touched. John's temple pulsed. "I have a plan, Alice."

She pushed his water glass in front of him and urged him to drink. "Let it go," she said. "You're fine."

John pressed his hand on her leg that she entwined with his and said nothing else.

The lawyer continued. "In memory of my daughter Victoria, who was a disappointment in the end, I leave one hundred million dollars with no stock shares, to various charities for unwed mothers and adoption agencies. May newborns benefit from her tragedy as she always told us to care about children first."

Victoria scoffed and gazed around Peter toward John. "He's a total jerk. Is it too late to dance on his grave?"

John turned his chair to stare at his sister. "What does this mean to you, Vicki?"

Victoria shook her head and refused to reveal what happened to her years ago. Instead she said, "That Dad doesn't deserve one more second of my time."

Peter must have done the math in his head of the billions left over. He said, "I'll match the one hundred million, Vicki. Don't stress about money."

Victoria beamed her happiness. "I'm going to open a dress shop, be creative, and design wedding dresses. In life, he'd never have allowed me to go into retail."

Peter scowled. Alice swallowed. The idea of a Morgan working must have soured his mood.

John saw the same reaction. He tilted his head and said, "I'll fund your business idea, Vicki."

Vicki shrugged and didn't seem to notice any issues between her brothers. She simply said, "Thanks."

Alice pressed her knees closer to John. Neither John nor Victoria might have the power to change Peter's mind about her own contract. She had to search for a buyer and probably shouldn't be here. What kept her glued to her seat was that John might need her.

"Six hundred million dollars was left to various people that I won't read, unless requested." No one said anything. The lawyer then continued, "And finally my son, Peter. He has proven a sound mind in business and will do well with my business ventures. I do hope he forgets his promise to remain a bachelor and finds himself a wife. He receives the remainder of my estate, my house, my various holdings, and everything else I own."

Peter took in a breath as if he'd held it the entire time the lawyer read. He smiled at last. "I figured. I'll have the money drawn up for you, Vicki. And John, there is always a place for you in Morgan Enterprises, if you want it."

Vicki shrugged her shoulders as she stood up to go. "Doesn't matter, Peter. Right now I want to open my dress shop, but thank you."

John pushed his chair back to get up as well. Alice followed him, happy this was over.

"It's not done," the lawyer then said. They all readjusted their seats. The other lawyer held his pen like his life depended on it. "If Peter ends up childless, the remainder upon his death should go to John's heirs. If neither of my sons has children, then the remainder should convert to the designee I left in my lawyer's files that is only to be opened on these conditions."

John sat straighter and asked the lawyer, "Who would Dad leave everything to if we all wind up childless?"

Peter leaned in his chair like he too wanted to ask, but then he straightened. "Doesn't matter."

John turned to him and argued, "Yes it does."

Peter glanced at Vicki and the closed his eyes. "No, it doesn't. This doesn't matter at all."

John shook his head, clearly upset with his brother. He whispered to Alice, "I'm going to find out."

Her mind raced. "How?"

John pushed his chair back again, ready to leave. "Dahle, I don't want to be here anymore."

Alice followed. "Agreed."

Peter's fingers tapped on the table as he clearly considered this a threat of some sort. "If the money and company are mine, then it's mine to do with as I see fit at my own death."

"Legally, that's true." The lawyer sat up straighter. "Your father just wanted you to know he had a plan."

Peter leaned back in his chair as if satisfied he'd won the argument as he said, "I don't care what my father intended. I'll still leave the company to a pet monkey if I want to and he doesn't get a say from the grave."

"You don't have a monkey." Vicki placed her hand on his.

"I might when I get older. I told him I'd never have an heir."

John stood and the tension in his body snapped. He pressed his hands on the table and shook his head. "That's what you focus on? As long as you get the money and the company then who cares about everyone else? Aren't you curious who Dad would leave his fortune to?"

"You didn't ask about the six hundred million dollars, which are probably half-siblings." Peter stood and leaned on the table as if they were opponents. "And so we're clear, I'm already investigating a few people who are probably our family as well. Dad used to take me to a woman's house. She had children our age. Whoever Dad designated doesn't matter. The money is ours. The House of Morgan continues through whatever children we have."

The lawyer shrunk in his chair. "This part is unenforceable."

There was no way to enforce Dad's wishes, but John's shoulders hunched and Alice could tell he wanted to know who was next on their father's list. "You are unbelievable."

Peter leaned closer, ready for a fight. "It's my life, John. I worked too hard for this."

Alice glanced at Victoria for one second who nodded at her, indicating they could talk later. She grabbed John's arm and tugged him toward the door. "Let's go."

He stared at Vicki and Peter, then took her hand. His hands shook with his emotion, but he said nothing. They walked out in silence.

# Chapter 19

Hours later, evening began to set, and they were done with the paperwork that the lawyer had chased him down to sign.

John tried to think of the right words to say to Alice as they got into his car, but nothing came to mind. He'd promised her a night out. The image of the red laser pointed to her head replayed in his mind and he didn't want to go anywhere but home.

The heaviness in the air wasn't the humidity. He turned toward the Rickenbacker Causeway to take her to Harry's, which was at least exclusive. If they sat in the back near the wall, they'd be safe enough.

His own mood might get better with fresh air. The restaurant's staff ensured that only certain people came inside. He'd been there many times as a child, so it fulfilled Alice's request.

The one thing that kept his shoulders from bowing beneath the weight of oppressive heat and the emotional day was the chance to enjoy the sunset with this beautiful woman next to him.

Alice had been quiet during the ride.

John asked, "Do you think Peter knows who the alternate beneficiary might be?"

"I don't know," she said.

"I don't know if I can trust him."

"If you accepted the position within the corporation, you'd get insight into his day-to-day. You'd see for yourself if he can be trusted."

"I'm tired of secrets."

"So you don't care if Peter's theory is correct about more Morgans?"

"I haven't thought about it."

A smile grew on her face as he entered the parking lot. The waterfront restaurant had a valet that guarded the lot. An assassin would have to be on a ship or stop the car on the highway. He assessed the entire place.

The cars in the lot were Maseratis and Aston Martins with a few BMWs and Mercedes Benz. The Miami well-to-do were here. Near the water if they sat by the wall, they'd see through the screen all the people on their yachts as they passed. The ten-foot walk from the lot to the restaurant was the hard part.

His stomach clenched, but he tried to ignore it. His brother's words that there were more Morgans out there replayed in his mind as he stepped out of the car and the implication that he didn't care about his family rang in his ears.

Nothing stirred in the air. If they could walk fast the few feet to the door with the pressing humidity, his heart might calm down. As the valet opened her door, Alice stepped out of the car. Sweat had formed on his forehead. She said, "Relax."

He swallowed and gazed one more time at the valet as he came to the driver's side. Then he stepped out and visions of a crime scene he had once seen at a restaurant flashed in his head. "I'll try, but we probably should have gone home."

Without a word she walked toward the restaurant door, and he shadowed behind her. As the doors opened, she turned around and waited for him. "I can't live my life worried about who is out to get me. Besides, you are overreacting. It was probably someone after the President."

He crossed his arms. She needed to take this seriously, even if his boss hadn't updated him. Tonight he'd send an email, but he let the thoughts go. "Alice, I'm not."

She turned and walked toward the maître de. He stayed right on her heels.

"I think you are the target. We're here because you wanted to unwind after today, and I promised."

She winked at him and said, "Get the frown off your face, then, and remember we're following my plans for some fun tonight. You need to relax."

He shook his head, in no mood for levity. "We always follow your plans."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "This is a special place for _you_? Did your family take you here?"

She only knew the high school football player and the FBI part of him. Perhaps he should take a job at Morgan Enterprises and be a Morgan. The thought left him speechless and he let out his breath. "I heard a few political and business speeches here."

The air around her smelled like strawberries. The hair on his arms rose. At first she said nothing. He held his silence. Then she tilted her head. "So this place holds no _romantic_ history for you."

He laughed in surprise. "No."

She stayed close. "I remember you dated Cindy in high school."

The pressure he'd felt being outside dissipated as Alice's blue eyes captured his attention. "Not for long. She wanted my name and the money of my world. I think she married a real estate developer."

"So, what about in college?"

The hostess motioned that their table was ready. They followed her and he sat opposite Alice. They sat outside near the wall he requested, but had a great view of the ocean from their seat as screens kept their faces cloaked.

She sighed as he ordered a bottle of red wine. When the server retreated he told Alice, "I never met anyone I was serious about. What about you?"

She sat back in her chair. The waitress returned quickly, pouring them both wine in crystal glasses. John sipped as the server waited, then nodded his approval. Alice stayed quiet until the server left with their orders. Then she said, "I always assumed I'd marry someone who knows about farms."

Automatically he scanned the area. The table closest to them had grandparents with their grandchildren, all dressed up. The table after that had another couple and the table near the end had a group of women clinking glasses and laughing. No one seemed suspicious.

He left his hand on the table and then gave Alice his full attention. He picked up his glass. "Why? Does that turn you on?"

She sipped hers and lowered her gaze. "Not really, but it's the life I know."

He waited for her to place her glass back on the table before capturing her clear blue eyes. "What about the life you don't know? Perhaps the guy is right in front of you."

Giggles burst out of her throat. "John Morgan, you are being silly."

He didn't move at all. "Why?"

Her hand shook as she pushed a piece of hair out of eyes. "Because it can't be you."

His eyebrows arched. Last night she'd been tempting as she kissed him back. It took all of his self-control to keep his hands to himself. "Why?"

She played with a strand of her hair. "It _can't_ be."

His heart constricted in his chest. Either she wasn't into him or she didn't take him seriously. "You said you had a crush on me and that I was your first kiss. How are these not signs for you?"

She shrugged. "Silly daydreams and heart-racing kisses don't equal true love with a happy-ever-after, and that is what I want."

He folded his hands on the table. The sweet taste of her lips tingled as the memory of her lips on his burned through him. He'd find a way to prove his feelings to her. "Why not?"

She reached for the bottle, but he said, "Let me."

He poured her more of the fruity red and as she accepted her glass, their fingers intertwined. Her lightest touch sent a jolt through him. "I always assumed I'd have what my parents have," she said.

He had to ensure nothing his father did haunted Alice or him from his grave. Perhaps he should have listened to her mother and kicked over the casket to see if Mitch was truly dead, but either way, he had to keep things slow with Alice until he knew she was safe.

He settled in his seat and decided he'd delay the rest of the conversation until later. "What is that?"

"My dad is a stable guy who never gets upset about anything. Colt is the same way." So in this logic, he wasn't stable. She continued like she hadn't said anything offensive. "I always assumed I'd find a no-drama type of guy to settle down with."

He reached for the badge that he no longer carried. Memories flooded him of people who acted like they were fine only to be arrested moments later. The air around him cracked and he shouldn't be here, but at no point in his life did anyone think him rash. He lifted his chin and asked, "I'm dramatic?"

She gulped her second glass of wine. He sat straighter, but didn't want to push her. She then said, "Your entire family is constantly in the headlines and supposedly someone wants you and anyone you love dead. So yeah, you qualify as dramatic."

It wasn't him, but the lifestyle he was born in. He couldn't change his past, but he had a say in his future. "You can't look beyond that?"

She sighed. "I'm with you right now because you think someone pointed a gun to my head."

The kisses hadn't registered as important enough. He'd have to test that. "That's it?"

She leaned closer. "John, you and I are not a long term thing. You're going to get bored and leave."

He settled his elbows on the table so they were eye to eye. "You have no faith in me."

She reached out and touched his arms. Electric bolts shot through him. She kept her voice low, "Don't take it like that."

The waitress came back over with another bottle and the prime rib dinners. She set the table. Both of them sat back until the server left. John picked up his fork and nodded. "Let's just enjoy our dinner."

"Bon appetit."

Silence hung in the air while they ate. John finished his meal first, wiped his lips clean and glanced at her. "My father's death upset me more than I realized, Alice. You being here is the most important part of all this, and I don't want to lose what we could have."

She picked up her fork. "Let's enjoy tonight and this beautiful setting. The future doesn't have to be answered right now."

His gut twisted like she'd stabbed at his manhood. Every other woman at this point in the relationship wanted more than he'd give. Once again, Alice was different. She picked at her food unaware his mood was off. He tried to follow her lead, but then she said, "I hope tonight made you feel better after what happened at your brother's place."

"You asked to go out." He shook his head and massaged the bridge of his nose. "I'm here because of you."

She closed her eyes. "John, you confuse me."

His hands fell to his sides. "Likewise."

She swallowed like she tasted something bitter. "Maybe I should just go back to the farm."

"No. I 'couldn't live with myself if something happened to you.

"Everything was wrong right now. This started because of his foul mood. "Please don't make this worse."

She picked up her fork and ate in silence. Then she placed the fork back down, but stared at the silverware. "I'm trying to make everything better. I don't know if I believe anyone is truly after me. I still think it's the President that was the target at the funeral."

Something else had to be bothering Alice. His mind raced through everything she ever said to him, and then the math clicked in his head. "When is your condo available?"

"Tomorrow it becomes empty." Her gaze flew to meet his. Her eyes were crystal clear blue. Whatever she said next was something she believed. "As no one has taken any shots at my head in the past few days, I think I should just move into my condo."

He sat absolutely still. The email threat had been real. He vividly remembered the glass shards that flew through the door as the bullet passed over her head. He kept his tone even. "That's not a good idea."

"Why not? It's not a good idea for me to stay with you."

She should have the same memories. She was there. He dropped his napkin on the table. "We should have just gone home."

Her gaze narrowed. "Why?"

He leaned forward, but she took her hand off the table. "You are not safe on your own, not yet. I'll contact someone else in my old department, other than the boss, first thing in the morning."

She squared her shoulders. "It's my choice."

This was insane. She acted like she wanted to get killed. "Don't you care about your own life?"

She shrugged, but then stayed still. "Of course I do, but the Morgan family is taking all my energy."

He froze. What did his family have to do with anything? "Don't let it."

"Your money means you're the star of everything."

She sounded jealous, which made no sense. He leaned closer again. "What are you talking about? My money buys security, and that's what I'm talking about."

She pressed her lips together. Whatever he said wasn't getting through to her. "Let's just go."

He stood up and waited for her to follow. "Okay."

Once home, he'd find a better way to keep her there. If something happened to Alice, he'd never forgive himself.

# Chapter 20

Alice hugged her waist and gazed at a piece of Spanish art from old Cuba that hung near the inside door. She could see it from the outside as they drove toward the garage. The bright color contrasted with her feelings. This was the final night that she would be staying with John.

With her head down, she turned toward John's profile. He couldn't see her eyes behind her sunglasses. Tomorrow, she moved out on her own. Tomorrow her real life started. Victoria could stop by. If she was lucky, John might also show up. Their date had been the opposite of romantic. She'd kicked him while he was down.

He parked the car in the garage. She studied his strong jawline. His kisses lit her on fire, despite his back and forth emotions. Perhaps with time that didn't include funerals, they had a chance at a stronger relationship. Dating John would be the prize she had always wanted, but never thought she'd have. She didn't dare to hope.

Perhaps she should settle. If somehow she could have one night with him, it would be enough.

John took her hand and led her into the house from the garage.

If she stripped off her shirt and threw herself in his arms, perhaps he'd finally take her. The thought played in her mind as he locked the door behind them.

Then, without provocation, he turned around and kissed her hard. She fell backwards and almost knocked the stand with the flowers down next to the door. He didn't seem to care and continued to press his lips against hers.

Her hands raked up his body. She needed to touch him. She needed to have him. He tasted like delicious wine and testosterone. Her fingers untucked his shirt and found his chiseled abdomen. Her entire body flamed with desire as his eyes held a blaze in them that read he wanted her too.

Finally. She pressed into him and reached farther up his shirt to feel his naked skin.

His muscles quivered at her touch. Her body moistened with desire.

John stepped away from her, and his voice was gruff as he said, "Tell me to stop."

She lifted her chin, wanting him. "Take me to a bedroom."

Dropping her pocketbook on the ground near the door, Alice slipped her hand into his as he led her down the hall to his room.

Her heart pounded in her chest as he opened the door with his free hand. His bed was messy and the gray duvet was on the floor beside his slept-in silken sheets, but otherwise the room was devoid of anything personal. She swung to him. "You haven't hired maids to clean up after us?"

His eyes widened. "I've been afraid to have anyone here."

Perhaps she shouldn't have changed the tone. She licked her lips and placed her hands on his chest. "Why?"

"I don't want anyone to hurt you."

No. They'd not discuss some threat that should keep her here. "Kiss me."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

His hand brushed against her skin. The hair on her arms stood up, welcoming his touch. He swept her hair back from her face, leaned in, and kissed her.

Fireworks exploded in her stomach and the rest of the world faded to black. All that mattered was this kiss, this moment, this everything.

Her hands wrapped around his back to somehow keep him close. If he stayed with her then the ride would never end.

John took a step backwards and she followed, not letting him go.

Her fingers ached to touch him and she held her breath when he stopped by the bed. She lifted her chin and gazed into his blue eyes. He was her everything. She stood up on her tiptoes, and his arms wrapped around her waist. His lips met hers and a tidal wave of need overwhelmed her.

Alice gasped as he released her to kick off his shoes. In a frenzy, she lifted her dress up and over her head, tossing it to the floor.

His eyes gleamed, making her dizzy.

He unbuttoned his shirt and stripped off the clothes that hid his perfectly formed masculine body. Every nerve ending in her body stirred.

He kicked his pants to the side, which left only perfectly sculpted thighs and part of his muscular abdomen hidden under his black boxer briefs.

Impatience grew, but then his hands brushed the hair out of her face so he could kiss her, hard and demanding.

Her bra felt uncomfortable but the smell of oak trees spurred her forward as her body temperature shot so high a thermometer would explode. Her body pressed against his groin, and she could feel the huge, hard length of him that waited for her.

Her knees were weak as he moved her to the bed. Alice fell back, wrapping her legs around John's so he landed with her in the center of the mattress.

He leaned above her, his fingers trailing down her body. At her chest she turned so his fingers would unhook her black satin bra. He smiled. "You're in a rush."

"Hardly. I've waited all my life for you."

His breath caught behind his lips as her bra fell to the side and her breasts were freed from restraint. "Pink."

Laughter bubbled as she gleaned his interest. He'd probably dated gorgeous women the past few years. No one like her. Then his lips pressed against her pink pebbles and she moaned instead. This felt like heaven.

Alice pressed her mouth together to stop her reaction, but then he did it again to her other breast. Another sound came out of her that vibrated from inside her soul.

Her hands traced against his perfectly sculpted body and she tugged his boxer briefs down over the hard length of his penis. She had to see all of him.

He leaned up so she could work off his boxers. She threw them aside and then stared at his loins. He was bigger than any man she'd ever seen, and adrenaline rushed in her veins. "Will that fit?"

"We'll find out."

Heat radiated through her smile. Yes, she would find out. Her hands traced his shoulders and reached his neck. He leaned down and kissed her again.

Her soul soared.

His fingers traced her body and reached her panties.

Every heartbeat reverberated in her ears as he lowered her plain white cotton panties like they were spun of pure gold.

His fingers traced the sensitive skin of her thighs and the hot brush of his hand sent her toward an edge as he touched her in her secret apex.

No more barriers existed between them.

His mouth kissed every inch of her body.

Goosebumps grew everywhere. The hunger for him ached inside her. She opened her legs and wrapped herself around him.

His eyebrows shot up. "You are impatient. We've got all night."

She shrugged, but then said nothing. He ripped open a condom and rolled it on fast—next time, she'd help him put it on.

His eyes were bright as he stared at her. Part of him had to care about her, even if they had no future beyond the here and now.

Then he kissed her shoulder as he slid inside her.

Her body stretched for him and the sweet ache made her moan.

When he was fully inside her, her body pulsated with desire and moved on its own.

The pleasure she felt sent her entire body soaring. Their bodies were entwined in a rhythm.

The music in her heart and body reached a crescendo. She lost the ability to think or feel. Her soul seemed to have left her an aching need of desire.

# Chapter 21

Alice woke up entwined in John's strong arms. Cedar and pine tickled her nose. She felt protected and warm as she lay beside him.

She turned and stared at John, whose eyes were still closed. The sheets were entwined around their naked bodies, revealing the tattoo on his arm. The black ink of roses was something she hadn't expected.

The last time she saw him in short sleeves had been at a high school football game. One day she might get to ask him where the tattoo came from. She hugged her waist and flipped toward the edge of the bed. If she stuck around, she'd buy him a muscle shirt to let him show it off. He must have done it out of protest years ago.

Until last night, she had never found tattoos exciting. Right now she shouldn't either. She had to get on with her life.

She untangled herself from the sheets, careful not to wake him as she kissed his forehead. Time to leave the fairy tale.

No more designer dresses that were way out of her budget. No more fantasy dates. No more Prince Charming. None of it existed long term, and it was time to get her life together.

She dressed in last night's clothes and slipped out the door.

The hallway was still dark as she made her way back to her room.

As she packed, the sun peeked above the horizon, sending light through the blinds in the guest bedroom. Finished taking what she'd come with, she zipped her bag. If she stayed, she'd never want to leave this life, or John. One day, once the funeral was a memory, he'd realize that he belonged to the House of Morgan. He could never be just hers.

Her mother would tell her that the real world required toughness. She let out a sigh. For the past few days, Alice hadn't solved any of her own problems. The Morgans had taken over her every thought. Now she needed to be there for her parents and herself.

At her new condo, she'd be able to think clearly.

She peered through the sliver of window at the front door into the dim morning light. The house at her back was pitch-black, but the sound of the waves as they splashed against the shore played outside. In the dream, she'd never leave this place, but Alice Collins never lived in a dream.

First she went and released the security code. Then she unlocked the door and departed. The grass was wet with dew as she passed through the lawn to where her SUV was parked in the driveway to the right of the house. She threw her bag in the backseat and rushed to get inside herself. A chill raced up her spine, but she ignored it as she realized her keys were in the car waiting for her.

A moment later the car engine roared to life. She glanced up and down the street and then at the house one more time. John Morgan was the man she would always crave, and her crush on him had grown into love.

She backed out of the driveway and headed toward her new condo. She refused to get mopey or weepy—she was not Cinderella. No one forced her to do anything. If she and John were to have a future, it would need to be much later, after they'd gotten their lives sorted.

Alice wasn't against dating, but she had to live for herself too. Before she met John she spent months picking her first condo, painting it in yellow and white with a blue trim. The furniture was soft golden oak to let more sunshine in and her place was the first thing that would ever truly be hers.

First and foremost, after coffee, she'd brainstorm and then reach out to new fruit buyers for the farm.

She refused to let her mind wander back to John Morgan for one second.

Alice's phone rang and she rummaged through her pocketbook. On the second ring, she fished out the phone and saw a number she didn't recognize. If it was John calling from his house phone, she would do the right thing, and turn around to talk to him in person. Her heart hammered in her chest as she answered, "Hello."

"Alice? I would love for you to join me and Jennifer this morning. Please?"

Vicki's voice bubbled with the happiness Alice remembered from the old days. Alice touched her best friend necklace. "Where are you going?"

"The Miracle Mile for coffee and then I want to show you both my new idea for my future."

Vicki's take-charge attitude might rub off. It's what Alice needed to do, too. She shifted the wheel to turn in her new direction as she agreed. "We'll meet at the book store like we used to, but I can't stay for long."

"Deal," Vicki said.

Alice danced in her seat. A friend was what she needed. Vicki ended the call and Alice threw her phone onto the passenger seat. Today she'd find out where Vicki had spent the last few years and avoid all conversations about John. No one pretended to be dead without a good reason.

# Chapter 22

Near his ear, something rang on the bedside night table. For a few seconds, he ignored it, but then remembered it might be the FBI. They hadn't called him. John woke up and glanced at the number on the voicemail message. No caller ID available might mean it was the FBI or a telemarketer.

He licked his lower lip and tasted strawberries. Alice's scent was in the air. He turned to his side, but where she'd slept was cold as if she'd been gone for a while.

He rubbed his forehead. He never slept like this. Then he picked up his phone and hit play.

A garbled voice that had been processed through a changer spoke.

_John, your girlfriend was smart enough to leave you. You're the reason she'll die now. Prepare to live with what you've done_.

His body went still. Why had the FBI done nothing? This was something he needed to solve on his own or use more of the Morgan security. He stood and walked to the window. Money was power. The sun was in the morning sky. He clutched his phone, threw on his pants and then made the one call he'd never wanted to make.

Peter answered, "This is a surprise."

John said, "I need your help."

"How?"

The coldness between them didn't deter him. He had to get his brother's help. The FBI wasn't working fast enough. "Let me play you a message."

The repeat of the threat to Alice made his blood freeze. Peter sucked in an audible breath as the voicemail played. John's heartbeat quickened as the deadly voice sent a chill down his spine. He shrugged into a shirt. As the voice finished, John said, "I need to find Alice before anything happens to her."

Peter didn't hesitate. "What do you want me to do?"

John ran one hand through the left side of his hair. His brother would help. "You have the staff to find her fast."

"You need me to employ our handlers to get her back."

John's mind raced. Peter had their father's confidence but not the venom that implied John once again was the always-in-trouble son. He'd call the local police once he finished with Peter. "Yes. Thank you."

"Why did she leave you in the first place?"

John straightened his back. Now was not the time for this. "I've no idea, and it doesn't matter right now. Alice's safety is on the line."

"I'm on it. I'd recommend you talk to Vicki. They were friends."

John's eyebrows arched. Now that was a good idea. "Is she up?"

"She's not here. She left the house early this morning. She mentioned that dress shop again and a future fashion empire she'd build."

John changed his screen while he spoke to his brother so he could make a note. "Does she have a cell?"

"I bought it for her yesterday. I'll text you the number, but it's the same as when she left."

Even better. Peter wasn't completely their father. "Thanks."

"We are family. Dad was right about one thing."

John rolled his shoulders. He might have spoken too soon. "What was that?"

"I don't want children or a relationship, John. I'm more than happy if you live that life and then I will leave money to nieces and nephews."

His mouth opened and wouldn't close all the way. "Why?"

"I don't want to be like our dad. I wish I didn't remember Mom."

John scratched his head. They'd talk once everything was over. He might have been too hard on his brother. "Peter, once I find Alice and make sure she is safe, then let's sit down and talk."

"Deal."

They hung up. His brother would have specialized guards a phone call away.

The local Miami PD would be on his side. He probably should have called them already, but he thought the FBI and Morgan security would be enough. He held himself together and dialed.

"This is the emergency line. How can we help you?"

John swallowed, aware that every word he spoke was recorded. "Someone left me two threats that they intend to kill Alice Collins. Now she's disappeared and I don't want anything to happen to her."

The word kill must have been all he needed to say. The second he finished his sentence, the woman on the phone responded. "Dispatch is on its way, Mr. Morgan."

Of course everyone knew who he was. Today he'd have to use the name. "Thanks."

He hung up the phone and gazed out at the morning sun. The smell of coffee from the automatic machine permeated the air. He went to the garage but Alice's SUV was gone. He picked up his phone to call her, but the squad car squealed in the distance.

In the front hall, he put on his socks but left his sneakers at the door.

John's mind ran through everything. Alice would likely go to her parents. Her mother hated him. If he went to her as he was, he'd smell of sex. A shower would cure him, but there was no time.

Instead he walked into the kitchen, picked up his phone, texted Vicki and Alice to call him and poured two mugs of coffee. One was an offering to the officer who would arrive any moment.

The silence in the house made his skin itchy. He sipped his coffee. The caffeine sent his blood into overdrive. He had to do more. He picked up his phone again. No text from Alice. No missed calls. Her mother might have answers. As he dialed her house phone, he prayed everything was fine and that Alice was there.

On the second ring, her mother Ellie answered, "Hello?"

"Mrs. Collins."

The gasp held obvious disdain. "John Morgan."

Now wasn't the time to win her over. His words rushed together. "Is Alice there?"

"She's not with you?"

The more people that looked for Alice, the safer she might be. He had to tell her. He blinked. No police cars were on his street yet. "I know you don't like me."

"Like is too soft a word, Mr. Collins. My daughter deserves better than you."

"I agree. She deserves everything the world can offer her."

"Then let her go."

A lump formed in his throat and he couldn't get rid of it. "I can't."

Her loud breaths said plenty. "Why are you calling me?"

John closed his eyes. He wished he didn't have to say this. "Alice is in danger. Someone wants to kill her because of me, and now I don't know where she is."

"What do you mean, kill her? I thought the news said that was because of the threat to the President, and that was your brother, Peter Morgan, who sent that security car outside our farm."

Her words were crystal clear. He blinked and in the distance he saw the lights of police cars. "Someone wants to murder her."

"Who?"

There was so much to say, but he had no answers. "I don't know. The police are on their way to my house to pick up the threats. She's gone. I don't know where she is and I was wondering if she'd contacted you."

"Oh my goodness. You're not making this up. My daughter had better be safe."

He walked toward his shoes and slipped them on. "Call her. She's not answering my calls or texts."

"She'll answer mine. Give me your address, John. I'll send her brother to you to get as much information as possible."

Unlocking the front door, John stepped outside. The blaring sun made his skin heat. He told her his address and then said, "The police are here now, Mrs. Collins. Please let me know if you find her."

The sirens stopped in his front lawn, but the black SUV behind them held a camera crew. He pressed his lips together and stared into the tinted windows of the police cruiser that was followed by a local station.

Years of training told John television cameras might make everything worse. It would illuminate angles that the bad guys shouldn't know. With luck Alice was fine, but he'd not take that chance.

The officer, who had been speaking to Alice at the wake, got out of the patrol car. Good. At least this man knew her and knew she was a sweetheart. "Rafe. Alice is in danger."

The man stepped closer on the grass as cameras took their picture. "How?"

With his head down, John led them to the front door.

"I sent this to the FBI the other day." He slipped the letter in the plastic bag into the other man's hands. He stared at the camera crew and then said, "Please come inside."

Rafe walked inside and John closed the door. The officer put on plastic gloves and John handed him his phone to listen to the message. "Here. This is what I heard this morning."

John hit replay on speaker, knowing there was no way to recognize the distorted voice pattern.

Rafe read the note and listened to the short message. "Where is Alice now?"

His heart beat in his chest, loud. "I don't know."

"Alice was always a kindhearted girl. I don't want her in any sort of trouble."

John's gut twisted, but he ignored the pain. Instead he simply asked, "Will you help me find her?"

Rafe sucked in his lower lip and tapped his pen against a piece of paper. "We solve crimes after they happen. I can release an APB to be on the lookout for her, but I can't promise anything. What I can do is track the voicemail and try to match the handwriting and any fingerprints in the database."

No. They'd not find Alice's body somewhere in the bottom of a swamp picked apart by alligators. "Do what you can. I can't let anything happen to her."

Rafe's face paled as he said, "Alice Collins will turn up fine. She's smart, sweet, and a loyal friend. She used to tutor me in math."

John put his hand on the knob, feeling determined. "And someone wants her dead because of me." He opened the door.

Rafe walked outside but turned back before he reached the patrol car. "I will do everything I can. She was always a good girl."

Was meant past tense. John lifted his head. "She _is_ a good woman. Thanks again Rafe."

Rafe lifted John's phone. "Just doing my job. Can I keep this?"

"Answer if it's Alice." No real choice existed. John shrugged as that was the only answer he could give, but then he stared at his brother's men who appeared on the street. He nodded at Rafe. "I'll get another line connected."

He'd send one of them to get him a phone as he went in search of Alice himself.

# Chapter 23

Alice parked her car and got out into morning sunshine. Palm trees lined the fashionable street where Alice intended to go a few hundred feet to meet her friend.

She dropped her phone to the bottom of her bag and stopped to find it and hold it in her palms. Her neck grew cold, like someone watched her. She turned around but didn't see anything. She took her phone and walked forward.

Then footsteps echoed in the alleyway behind her. Alice's limbs shook as the image of a laser pointed to her head emerged in her mind. She ran fast down the street.

The shuffle of footsteps followed her. Her stomach was rock-hard as she went as fast as she could. She turned onto the busy street with children eating ice cream, but her insides quaked.

The heavy steps behind her became louder, and Alice blinked as she ran to blend into the people on the Miracle Mile.

A large hand brushed against her back. A scream got stuck in her throat.

Then Vicki grabbed her arm and dragged her into the bookstore. She pushed Alice toward the carpet, between aisles of books, like she might protect them both.

Books wouldn't stop a bullet, Alice thought. She stood up and dusted off her jeans, but said nothing as her voice wasn't able to function at the moment. Perhaps John was right that someone wanted her dead.

A pair of designer heels and a black pencil skirt joined them. Alice rocked on her feet and then gazed toward Jennifer. Her hands trembled as she waited for the insult.

Vicki, pale, asked, "Are you okay?"

"Now. I'm here with you both." Alice walked to the window and looked out. So many people were outside and she had no idea who had frightened her. She'd have to call John.

Without another word, Vicki dragged her farther into the bookstore and away from the glass. "Who was that?"

Alice wiped her hands on her pants. In a minute her heart would stop the frantic pace now that she was safe. "I don't know. Some guy was following me."

"I have it on video from my phone. I'll text it to John and Peter. The guy chasing you had a cap on."

"You saw him?"

"I couldn't make anything out, but perhaps the police can. I hate stalkers." Jennifer stood with her arms crossed, but then she sniffed the air. "You smell like sex."

Alice's entire body heated. Leave it to Jennifer to change the subject.

Vicki turned her small frame from where she'd been staring out of the window and looked at both her friends. She sniffed the air. "You mean she smells like my brother's cologne."

Alice stepped away from the pair of them. This was not a good conversation at all. Her face warmed. "Stop."

"You slept with John and then left him in bed." Jennifer tapped her foot, and Alice realized they stood in the romance section. "I thought good girls like you never did anything like that."

There was no way a normal person would ever assume such a thing. Alice lifted her head and dared Jennifer. "Like what?"

Jennifer laughed as if they shared a secret and didn't really hate each other. "Like sleep with a man before marriage. Isn't that what you hated about me in high school?"

No, it was all in the superior attitude. Alice kept her hands crossed. "You slept with every guy in our high school."

Jennifer lifted her eyebrow. "Not every guy."

Alice's feet grew apart. "Like who did you miss?"

Jennifer traced the neckline of her dress. "Not your John or Colt."

Alice opened her mouth but Vicki cut her off. "My brother had said someone was after you from the funeral. I didn't think about that when I invited you this morning, and I don't like you here without protection."

"Let it go." Alice shrugged. The further her mind went from those few moments, the better her sanity, though she quickly texted John. With only one bar of service, she could only hope it went through.

Her mind flashed to the gun shot through the glass doors of the funeral. She sighed. "Creeps don't get more than a second of our thoughts. I'll be more careful from now on."

Jennifer's grin grew wider. "Yes, let's talk about you and John."

Alice wouldn't run away from more sly insults. She took a step forward. "We could talk about you and Peter."

Jennifer shrugged. "Old news."

Vicki then tilted her head and stood next to Alice. "No. I want to know, too. What _is_ going on between you and Peter?"

Jennifer's grin fell and she shifted toward both of them. "Peter and I are _not_ in a relationship."

Alice had assumed they were. At the funeral, Jennifer had been on Peter's arm. "You're not?"

Jennifer's perfectly formed nose on her flawless skin gave off an effervescent air that her long dark hair silhouetted with her angelic face. "No. We're friends with benefits."

Vicki's face went white. "And you're okay with that?"

Jennifer flicked her hair behind her ears. "Of course. It was my idea."

Alice didn't believe a word. She'd never agree to that with John. She'd die if another woman entered the picture. Maybe Jennifer never worried about that. On the outside, no one competed in looks with her.

It was strange John hadn't texted her back right away. The tower hopefully sent her signal through as it read 'sent.'

Vicki asked, "Does he not want a relationship?"

Poor Vicki had no idea what her brothers were like, since she'd been "dead" for the past six years. It was time to ask what happened.

Jennifer took Vicki's hands. "As I said, I don't want one so it doesn't matter."

Part of Alice liked that Jennifer's life wasn't perfect. It might be wrong to say that out loud, so she kept her lips sealed. Jennifer continued. "I'm not the one who walked out of your brother's bed today without a word. Why don't we ask Alice what's wrong with her relationship with John?"

"Nothing's wrong." Alice hugged her waist. She had answered too fast. Then she tried to spin out of it. "My life isn't working as it is right now. I've not solved one of my problems. I have to help my parents, and I've always wanted to be independent."

Vicki stared at Jennifer for a moment longer and then she turned all her attention to Alice. Her calmness yet attentiveness were new characteristics. Alice's skin prickled as Vicki said, "There is a time for independence and a time for your heart. What is it you want?"

Alice decided the latest bestseller needed to be held and she read the back blurb. "I want both. For years, I've told myself everything will be better when I move out on my own. It's time I do that. Today my condo is ready for me to move in. I ordered the furniture and the moving trucks months ago. All I have to do is pick up my key and walk in the door."

Jennifer tapped her foot. Then she stared down her nose. "So how does John factor in?"

Alice turned toward Vicki, but she had no sympathy from her either. She put the book back on the shelf. "I'd like to see him."

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "That's it?"

Guilt iced down her back, though she hadn't done anything wrong. She stared into Vicki's eyes. "John doesn't love me."

Vicki smiled and the brightness caused a chain reaction inside of Alice. Her insides quaked as Vicki said, "I don't believe it."

Alice's body heated again, even if John hadn't called her immediately. "You are saying that because he's your brother."

Vicki took both of her hands in hers and waited for Alice to gaze into her pretty blue eyes. "Exactly. Who knows him better than me? Alice, I have never seen John look at another woman the same way he looks at you."

Her heart hammered in her chest. "Then maybe he'll want to date, but for today, I have to do this."

Jennifer's sigh interrupted the moment. "What about me and Peter, Victoria?"

Vicki dropped Alice's hand, and her best friend's face flushed. "Jennifer, I love my brother, and I want you both to find your happiness."

Jennifer rapid voice sharpened as she spun on her heels. "You don't know anything."

The bookstore had customers in their aisle. It was more than time to go. Alice said, "I thought we came here today to see this store Vicki wants to open."

Vicki walked down the aisle to gaze out the big window. Alice didn't see anything unusual in the morning crowd that was shopping on the million-dollar boulevard. She scanned the street for signs of another bad guy, but nothing clicked in her head. "Okay, I think the coast is clear."

Alice joked, "You sound like your brother, the FBI agent, with that sentence."

Both women chorused, "John was in the FBI?"

Alice almost tripped over her feet. John had joined because of her. She hadn't realized she'd divulged state secrets. "You didn't know? Vicki, he's your brother."

"I love my family." Vicki stood at the threshold. "But I've been M.I.A. for a while now."

Jennifer joined in. "Peter never said anything."

Alice quipped, "'Friends with benefits' doesn't exactly inspire communication."

Jennifer's tongue came out of her mouth like she'd swat this conversation in the butt. Then she sucked it back in and rolled her shoulders. "Like you have any answers, Alice. I don't remember anyone ever finding you the least bit interesting."

Vicki crossed her arms and turned toward Jennifer, "You're both my friends, so stop that."

Jennifer would never be her friend, but Vicki was always friends with everyone. Alone, she might end up adopting a three-legged dog and every down-on-their-luck person they passed. Alice chose to smooth things over. "Okay, let's go."

Jennifer shook her head, but said nothing else. Instead all three of them walked outside and a few minutes later, they stood in front of an empty building on the Miracle Mile. Alice asked, "Is this where you want your shop?"

Vicki smiled and nodded her head.

Jennifer shrugged. "I don't get what you want a shop for."

No? Alice understood Vicki's plan to be independent and peered inside the empty window. "This place has potential, Vicki. All the brides will want to come to you."

"Come." Vicki rifled through her pocketbook and found a key. She unlocked the door and as she threw it open to the sunshine of the morning, she said, "I bought this place yesterday to be the base of my fashion empire. The address is perfect."

Good. Independence was something they should _all_ enjoy. Jennifer had it with her telenovelas. Vicki would have it with her store and fashion world, and Alice would have it too once she found a buyer for the farm products, moved into her condo, and the potential threat was gone. The three walked inside, and Vicki locked the door right behind them.

Alice twirled on her heels. She could imagine the mirrors on the walls, and rows of changing rooms. The aisles would be filled with white dresses designed to help a woman feel beautiful on her special day. Right now, the place was completely empty of everything, but it had lots of potential.

"I've already sent the designs for how this place will look to my decorator." Victoria nodded, eager for someone to say something positive. "I'll have it open in two weeks."

Jennifer's face pulled back. "You're crazy. That's a lot of work."

Alice jumped forward. Vicki deserved someone's support. "The Morgans can have this place open in an hour."

Vicki added, "And the store is just the start of my plans."

Jennifer turned toward Alice. "You have a point."

Alice's heart grew lighter that her friend was alive. Her life had all the people she loved in it. One day soon, John would stop his emotional see-saw and recognize how beautiful his life could be. He had his family and it was a miracle.

Victoria paid neither of them any mind. Instead she hugged herself and said, "See, my friends can get along."

Police sirens echoed in the air. Alice's heart froze. Her limbs grew goose bumps as she looked out of the glass. Jennifer pressed her nose against the window. "I wonder if they arrested your stalker."

The police cruiser stopped right outside the dress shop. Alice bit her lip and took a step into the shadow. The memory of the man who had followed her replayed in her mind.

Then a split second later, John's car stopped in the street behind the police. Alice's breath caught in her throat. Maybe that's why he hadn't returned her texts.

Then her brother Colt got out of the passenger side as John stepped from the driver's seat. She held the pendant at her neck. She hadn't seen Colt in months, so she had no idea how he stood right next to John like they were old friends.

They had played football together. Perhaps her brother stopped at John's house, but that didn't seem right. She hadn't told her mother the address, though she had blocked her mother's number the other day which prevented her from calling. Her brother hadn't asked for an address either. The two men walked toward the store. Alice asked, "What are they doing here?"

Jennifer whistled and nudged her side with her elbow. "Is that your brother?"

"Yeah." Alice turned around now. She expected Vicki to be right behind them, but the two of them were alone. Alice scratched her head. "Where is Vicki?"

Jennifer pushed her arm toward the door as the men knocked. "It's better if you go out to the street and not let them in here."

Why? Her friend had vanished as if she were a ghost. Since she was alive, it wasn't possible, but Alice had no idea why Vicki would just take off. Surely the police were not here to arrest Vicki of all people.

"Okay, I'm leaving then."

Jennifer smiled and stepped into the door frame like she'd block anyone who entered. Something strange was going on, but right now she'd solve one mystery at a time. Alice stepped outside into the suffocating humidity.

John didn't wait for one word. He reached out, grabbed her and kissed her.

The world faded to black with his touch. All that mattered was the fireworks inside her.

Leaving John without a broken heart was no longer an option.

# Chapter 24

"Get in the car." Colt gestured to John's Mercedes.

This made no sense. The last time either man had seen each other was years ago at a football game. They never spoke, and they were not friends. Her brother was in the Marines. If he was here in Miami, then he'd be with his daughter. Her gaze shifted from Colt to John.

John's expression seemed relieved.

Alice bit her lower lip, held John's hand and asked, "Why are you both here?"

"You and Vicki texted me." Then John repeated Colt's message. "Get in the car."

That wasn't an answer. She tugged her hand to take it from him, but he held firm. She shook her head. "I have my own car in the parking lot."

Colt worked in unison with John. He opened the backseat of the car. John walked her and placed his hand on her head as if he could protect her with his body from a shooter. Colt assessed the crowd. "Sis, don't be an idiot. Get inside."

The hand that brushed against her back burned in her memory. So did the moment the bullet broke through the glass. She sucked in her breath. "I don't know what's going on, but it must be big if you are both here."

Without another word, she squeezed into the backseat of the car, which she quickly realized was overdramatic. The leg room was more than ample, she thought, as both the men in the front seat were all muscle. They stared at each other. She crossed her arms as the men closed their doors. "What?"

Colt turned to her from the passenger seat. John revved the engine. Colt asked, "Why weren't you at John's as planned? Did you two have a fight so you put your life in danger out of anger?"

Her skin prickled and her forehead felt hot. This discussion was not to be had with Colt. She shook her head. "No—and what a question."

His gaze narrowed like he was a hawk and she was prey. "Then why did you leave?"

"Today is move-in day with my condo. It's time I do what I need."

John gripped the wheel and she caught his gaze in the mirror. His blue eyes looked haunted. Then he handed her his phone. She stared at the newest model of the phone and realized this wasn't what she'd seen before. Whatever it was that brought them together had better not be technology-related. "This looks brand new."

John shook his head. Then he returned his attention to the black-tarred road. "I had to give my old one to the police. Listen to the voice mail."

The police. The thought that something had happened to her father replayed in her mind. He couldn't have had another heart attack. _No_.

"Okay." She hit play. This couldn't be happening. A chill raced through her body. The man had been a real threat. She coughed as the message replayed again. "Someone was following me. At least he didn't shoot me on the street."

Her entire body had a chill that ran through it. She could have been shot on the street where people buy wedding dresses and walk in their finest outfits to be seen.

John's hand went to her spine and he quickly massaged her shoulders. "Don't think about what might have been, Alice. You called and Vicki sent the video. The police are on it."

"Victoria dragged me inside the bookstore. Jennifer has the original footage of the man on video."

Again both men shared a look. Colt nodded, "I'll deal with Jennifer and get that to the police with her sworn statement."

John told her brother, "Thanks."

This was all her fault. She should have listened and stayed at John's home.

John sped his car down the street. Colt shook his head, stared back at her, and said, "You have two options until this all clears up, Sis. You come home with me to the parents' house, or you stay with John. You cannot be alone."

No. She gripped John's new phone like it was a lifeline. Her condo would only have locks, not the House of Morgan protection. She stared at John's profile. He kept his eyes on the road so she couldn't see them. She shook her head and turned her attention to her brother. "This is idiotic."

John tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. Her head snapped toward him and then she met his blue eyes for a moment in the mirror. "My house has security that the farm doesn't have."

To go back with John made her heart race. Alice recalled her fear at how close the stranger had come and decided she'd stay without one more complaint until the man was caught. It wouldn't be too long, not with video evidence. She nodded. "John's house is free of Mom and her constant negativity."

Colt stared at John next to him in the front seat. John nodded back, and then Colt ran his hands through his hair. "Mom has good reasons for not trusting the Morgans. She tried to call you."

Alice reached for her phone and unblocked her mother's telephone number. As her fingers clicked, her mind did the same. Whatever happened to fuel her mother's opinion of the Morgans, her brother knew.

John didn't have a clue how much her mother despised his family. She pressed her lips together as John told Colt, "You were the quarterback the year I was running back. Remember?"

Football seemed to be John's argument that Colt could leave her with him. Alice's mind prepared an argument for when that didn't work.

Then her brother shrugged. "Which is why I can let my sister stay with you. I don't think you're like your brother or father."

How did football translate into trust? Alice blinked, but kept her silence.

John said, "Alice, you didn't have to leave alone this morning."

_Yes, I did_. Though it hadn't worked out in her favor, she'd had to reach out for her independence. If she'd stayed in his bed, she would have turned into a needy sex-slave who begged for another moment of John's time. Not how she envisioned herself. She lifted her chin. "I'll stay for a few more days."

A few days she could handle. She dropped the phones on the seat beside her like they were heavy bricks.

John stopped at a light. "Colt, want to stay for dinner then?"

John seemed relieved as the light turned green and he accelerated the car. He had to know how he affected her. All her life, she'd had this overreaching crush on him that never wavered.

Her brother's brown eyes met hers. He nodded. "Yeah. John, we should catch up."

Strange. They drove back into the driveway of John's house where cameras waited outside. She kept her head down until the garage door closed. Despite the walls, she rushed inside with both men on either end of her.

Once inside, Alice rushed to pick up the flowers that she and John knocked down last night with the stand, before her brother saw it. A minute later, he walked in with John and Alice squared her shoulders. Colt nodded at her and said, "Text Mom you're here and you're safe."

Her mind went blank. "Mom?"

Colt again met John's gaze. Then he turned to her. "Yeah."

Again, Alice was hit with a jolt. Colt knew something she didn't about their mother.

John asked, "Anybody want something to drink? Water? Coffee? Soda?"

She took off her shoes and left them at the front door.

Colt walked in like he'd been here all morning. He slapped John on the back and smiled. "Iced tea."

"Me too," she said.

John went toward the kitchen, so Alice tapped her brother on the arm. She'd ask her questions before John came back. "Come on, Colt. Let's go to the living room and sit down."

He followed her. The sun shone bright in the window that faced the bay. She took a step toward the clear glass, but then her brother blocked the sun. "Now you can tell me why you left here without John's listening in."

Her face heated. No, she'd not tell him that. "I wanted my independence. I've lived with Mom and Dad for a while, and Mom always drives me crazy."

"I asked why you left John's side, not Mom's."

Adrenaline rushed in her veins. "I like him."

He shrugged his shoulders like she was the one that needed to see reason. "That's not a reason to put yourself in danger."

The birds chirped out the window as palm trees rustled in the breeze. She hugged her waist. She'd steer this conversation now. "Yeah it is. You know our mother hates his family."

Instead of looking at her, he turned toward the blue waves outside the window. "She doesn't hate John. She doesn't know him. _I_ don't even hate John."

She stood next to her brother, staring up at his profile. "Even? You should hate the others?"

His face turned red. "Let's not talk about me. What's going on with you?"

"I'm angry she disowned me, again." She took a step backwards. In the background, John put on some music.

"She's been like that all our lives. Don't let her get to you."

"Easier said than done."

Alice tucked her hair behind her ear. "I was supposed to move into my condo."

Colt crossed his arms. "Why didn't you discuss it with your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

That just blurted out as a defense. Alice wished she could take the words back. Her feelings for John were too complicated.

"He's not? So I should go in there and beat him?"

She grabbed her brother's arm with both hands. "No."

Colt called out over the music. "John, would you date my sister?"

John walked inside with three glasses of iced tea and placed them on the table next to him. "Yes. I already said I'd marry her."

"The last time you said that it didn't end well." Again, he told the same lie to her family. Everyone was liable to believe it. She shook her head. This was ridiculous. "Colt, stay out of my life. Wait. Don't you have to get back to Clara?"

"You want me to leave so you can talk to your guy?"

"Stop it, Colt."

"Sorry I can't stay for dinner, John," Colt said.

Her entire body heated. She pushed her brother to the door. He stalled and dug his heels in. "If you want this guy then go for it, Sis. Don't let what Mom says get in your head."

No answers on what charged up her mother against John in the first place. She'd ask later. It was more important to get Colt out the door before he had it in his head to speak to Mom about wedding planning. "Thank you."

He stalled again. Perhaps talking to Colt was a bad idea. He placed his hands in his pockets. "For what?"

The Marines had transformed her brother into someone nicer, but he was still her family. She nodded. "For support no matter what I choose."

Colt glared at John who stayed quiet throughout all this. "You're my sister. I'll kill him for you if I have to." Colt then kissed her forehead.

Too much discussion about death. Everyone's heads stayed attached to their bodies in her mind, and no bullet would graze any of them. "Personally, I like John's head on his body. We do have to talk about something else."

John ducked out of the room, scratching the back of his head. "What?"

She lowered her voice. "Peter Morgan wants to end our contract."

Colt's gaze turned to ice. He reminded her of their mother as he said, "Then let's find new buyers."

"It's one of the things I wanted to work on at my condo, away from distractions."

"Close your bedroom door and use the computer." Colt crossed his arms. "You think John will stop you from working?"

John''s footsteps echoed behind her. Her body tensed. "No."

"I had already prepared this. Wish you could stay." John came in with a cheese tray. As neither of them were speaking, he asked, "What's going on?"

Her brother shrugged. "We're talking business. Alice just told me that your brother canceled the contract."

She took the tray from John and set it next to the iced teas as he said, "I'll buy all your products and get them into stores."

Alice waved her arms in front of the men. No one would shake on that offer. "You don't have the business to do that. You're not Peter."

John's expression steeled. "I hope I'm not."

"Then don't try to throw money at us like we're desperate. We'll find a buyer. I know what I'm doing and my family will not take charity."

Her voice was sharp and left no room for argument.

John took a step back, his expression confused as he tried to understand her. He nodded, but countered, "Can I approach this again if I have a business plan you approve of?"

If she said no, she'd sound like a harpy. She rubbed her arms. "Sure."

John's smile dazzled the room. "Perfect. It gives me a reason to get to know the farm better. Did Colt get you to say why you left?"

This was not going to happen. She stood between the men and crossed her arms. "We should talk alone."

Then she turned and gave her brother a slight nudge toward the door.

"That's my sister's way of telling me to leave. I'll go home to Clara. Do we still have that patrol car around the farm?"

"Absolutely." John nodded.

"Stay safe, Sis." Colt opened the door to slip out.

Alice unlocked the door ready for him to leave. "I love you, Colt. I'm glad you're home."

"Me, too."

John walked next to Colt and asked, "Who's Clara?"

Alice's heart went cold like there was some clue in what she said though it made no sense. "His daughter. She's a sweetheart."

John's eyes widened. "I had no idea you had a child."

Colt stepped out the door. "If you're still dating my sister, then you'll meet the moppet soon enough."

John waved from his side door, and Alice stood beside him. To the outside world, they must seem like a couple who waved off a loved one. John shook Colt's hand and said, "I'm looking forward to it."

Colt hugged his sister and then stepped into the garage. "See you both later."

From the window, Alice blinked and saw a black car across the street from John's house. John's gaze must have followed hers as he pulled her inside and locked the side door. "Those are Morgan men. Don't worry."

Good. His family intended to save her. She sucked in her cheeks and walked away. John followed her without another word. In the living room she slumped on the couch. He sat next to her. "What's up? Why did you run this morning?"

Her heart beat grew loud in her ears as she said, "I have wanted to be independent for years, John."

Her hand shook, but she hid it to her side for him not to see.

He scooted closer to her. She played with her necklace as her heart raced. He then said, "Last night we ended up in bed. Did I disappoint you somehow?"

All she could do was blink. That was definitely not it. She reached out and brushed his arm. "Absolutely not. It was the best night of my life."

He nodded. "Mine too. Then what?"

His too! Her head became dizzy as she stared back at him. "I can't be one of those girls who forgets everything they are supposed to do because my childhood crush finally noticed me."

The light in his eyes dimmed as if her words might have hurt him. He asked, "What are you saying, then?"

The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. John was like the sunshine that fed the plants at her farm. Her mouth went dry. "That I want to take things slow."

He shrugged. "You could have told me that this morning."

The right words did not bubble forth. If she apologized and said she'd stay forever then she'd be a fool. She rubbed her arms and changed the topic. "I intended to talk to you. I didn't know you would get some threat against me."

"I told you someone threatened you before."

Her lips were dry. She swallowed the entire glass of iced tea, but it didn't help. "Nothing had happened since I moved in. You never gave me any updates. I assumed it was a misunderstanding."

He reached for his tea as she placed her glass down, and their hands touched. Instead of pulling back, he laced his fingers through hers. "As soon as I find out who it is that is threatening you, then we can go as slow as you like."

The hum in her veins begged for him. "John, if I'm going to stay here, then we're going to have to be honest."

His voice lowered. "What do you want to know?"

She tugged her fingers back. If they touched, she'd be all over him within minutes. "What is it about me now that was missing before?"

"Nothing. I was just young and foolish which made me blind."

The boom in her soul woke her up, though she listened to the ache in her chest. "So this isn't about sticking it to your father, even though he is dead?"

"No."

That one word held so much depth that she didn't know if he was sincere or if she over-read the strong negative reaction. She lowered her gaze. "He didn't like me."

"I am not him."

She straightened out a wrinkle in her jeans. "Have you let go of his shadow? Seems to me you made your life choices because of him."

On a hunch, she gazed at him. The light was gone, and in its place was a riot of emotions. "That's really deep, Alice. Let me sort that out."

Had she pushed too far? Overthinking never helped anything grow. Taking her own advice, she decided it was time for levity. Safe at the house meant no outside forces would get her. The only issue was how she was falling for John Morgan. She stood up and smiled. "Deal. Now what are we having for dinner? I'm getting hungry."

John rose after her and they walked into the kitchen together. She fell behind to memorize his strong broad shoulders and his squeezable butt. Last night, her hands had raked all over him. Tonight, she'd hold back. Last night she realized how much she loved him. Now she was tied to him, but he couldn't know how deeply.

# Chapter 25

With a flutter in her belly, Alice sautéed the vegetables as John finished with the chicken in the frying pan. The flutter had everything to do with the man next to her. He added a few spices to his dish. She decided to test John's fortitude and reached for the pepper, adding it to the vegetables. Her brother and father said that real men handled spices. Pepper wasn't much, but she was curious.

After their conversation on the couch, she'd decided that everything would be all right if they did end up dating. John walked away from the meat and set the table. She found a bowl and added her vegetables. Then she opened the refrigerator and grabbed the bag with the rolls. Together.

The accent wall that separated the kitchen and dining room was yellow. If she lived here full-time, she'd suggest something brighter. In Miami, bland was not part of the decor. Alice smiled as they passed each other—their partnership had the table set in no time. Her father never helped her mother in the kitchen, but then he was in the fields until Ellie called him.

John's brow shot up. With a wink, she continued to smile. He grabbed the rest of their dinner and called behind her, "What has made you so happy?"

First she put the food on the table, and then placed her hand on her hip. "You."

He took a step backwards. "Me?"

Light-hearted, she felt as if she were floating as she rearranged the dishes and then sat down. "Yeah."

"I thought you wanted to be free of me."

As he sat, she scooted her chair closer so their knees brushed. "No. I said I wanted to go slow. There is a huge difference."

The color of his eyes darkened. "Explain how you see us then."

Fireworks exploded inside her. "You want an us?"

As his hand fell onto her thigh, her body melted. "Yes," he answered.

Every cell in her body woke up. She needed a kiss. "I wanted to hear that, I guess."

As her eyes closed, her heartbeat grew loud in her ears. She opened her lips, and then his met hers. The embers of last night burned hot inside her, and she ached for more.

Her hands wrapped around his back, feeling the muscles underneath his clothes.

An alarm rang loudly in the air. John jumped out of his seat and her body felt shaken from his sudden departure. "Go to your room and lock the door."

Her eyes scanned the area as her heart thrashed in her ears. Her voice was fast and shaky. "You said this house was safe."

John walked out of the dining room and assessed the front door. She ran behind him. "The police will be here and Morgan security is on the way," he said. "I need my gun."

Of course he had one. The FBI didn't let agents not carry. Then, as if he was walking toward a battlefield, he turned and headed toward the living area. Nothing seemed out of place, except for the blare of the alarm.

Her limbs trembled as she followed him down the hall. John pointed to her room. "Go inside. Lock the door."

She looked behind her, but no one was there. Her hands were clammy and she tried to stop shaking to tell him, "No. I'm staying right beside you."

He kept his pace toward his room. "You're impossible to protect."

Her chin trembled, and every step they took echoed in her head. "Likewise. John, if this guy wants to hurt me to get to you, then he'll target you. I can't let that happen."

Glass shattered behind them. John pushed Alice in front of him and then turned around in the hall. "Get to my bedroom so we can get my gun."

A whimper escaped her mouth, but she turned around and went for his room. He needed his weapon. Alice swung open the door, and John rushed them both inside and then headed right for the dresser drawer. The second he stepped away from her a coldness entered her. He grabbed a key from his pocket and unlocked a drawer.

More glass shattered. Alice said in a low voice, "They have to be inside now. Hurry."

The clip of the gun made a snapping noise as he put everything together. John rushed back into the hall. With tight shoulders, she followed behind him. She grabbed his hip so she'd at least touch him. "If you won't lock the door and stay here, then stay behind my shoulder."

With her elbows pressed to her sides, she ducked back. "What are you going to do?"

"If someone is in my house, here to hurt you, then he's a dead man."

The image of how John held her to protect her from the bullet, and how safe she felt in his arms, replayed in her mind. She swallowed.

Nothing stirred from the living room.

Sirens echoed in the air as the police arrived. Her stomach had rocks in it still, but she managed to breathe. A moment later, the house was flooded with lights. She rubbed her arms as John walked them toward the front door. The tingling in her chest stirred, but then he let in security to check every dark corner.

Her thoughts were scrambled. She crossed her hands until she saw Officer Rafe Soliz and John together, near the front door. Rafe said, "You two didn't let me finish my dinner."

A nervous laugh escaped her lips, but then she swallowed. "We're sorry, Rafe."

Her vision blurred, and the truth was she wasn't focused on anything other than her heartbeat.

Officer Soliz said, "At least you're safe, Alice, and we'll keep you that way."

Without another word, she scooted closer to John. Closeness helped rally her spirits, and she could see sharply again.

A security guard came out of the garage and announced, "The window was broken, but it's not large enough for a man to get through."

She shook her head. No, the goosebumps over her body weren't for nothing. There had been danger. Alice called out, "What about a woman?"

Without thinking, she reached out and took John's hand. Heat traveled up her body as he asked, "What?"

Alice turned back to the officer—her suggestion wasn't out of left field. "Women can be assassins or trained killers."

Officer Rafe nodded his head. "We'll search the house to be sure."

Like the royal son, John lifted his head and the security guard reported, "I've called in a team to fix the window. They should be arriving soon."

Her breathing returned to normal, and her body temperature regulated. "The House of Morgan has everyone on speed dial?"

He pressed his palm toward hers, and the skin to skin contract sent her an electric pulse. "Yeah. Alice, I need you to be safe."

Another round of adrenaline hit her, but for an entirely new reason. Her body trembled. "Why?"

Her knees knocked together as he said, "You talk about homes and families like everyone should have one. I like it and hope to hear more about these things."

Talk about the perfect answer. She sighed. If they were alone, she'd throw herself at him.

Officer Soliz interrupted her thoughts as he said to her, "That's a big admission coming from this guy, Alice. Between the Morgans and the Gonzales family, everyone else at school seemed to have normal lives."

A bark of a laugh escaped her lips. Jennifer's home life never crossed Alice's mind. She had never tried to spend time with her or think about her. "We all have difficulties in our families. My mom and I disagree, but despite her parting words, I know she cares about me."

John shook his head. "At least you have a relationship where you can fight with her. She knows you're there, right in front of her."

Rafe turned red, clearly thinking about his own affairs, and then stepped away from the two of them. "I'm investigating a break-in."

He walked toward the garage.

Now they were alone. Her heart raced. Alice reached up and placed her hand on John's chin. He gazed into her eyes. With everyone around, she'd not beg for a kiss though she'd like one. She sighed instead. "I don't know how you're so together despite everything."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. Every cell in her woke up and begged for his attention. "I can't let anything happen to you."

"That's all you have to say?"

His eyes narrowed. "What else did you expect?"

Perhaps that he cared about her and might love her. Not that she'd say that. Small pieces of ice went back into her veins. She stepped out of his arms. "Nothing, I guess."

John, stiff, stood next to her as the house swarmed with people.

A few seconds later, Rafe came from the garage as security came out of the house. She stayed next to the cheese plate from earlier that made it somehow seem they were there for a dinner party. Alice's heart rate spiked at the thought she might have just been an idiot. Someone might be in her house. She swallowed, but then security spoke first, "No one is here, sir."

She released a huge breath. But then a car arrived outside and a team of security went out to greet the new arrival. She hugged her waist as she waited.

John nodded at the security officer without speaking. Who would be outside, now?

Rafe returned to join them. "I didn't find anything in the garage or attic. I'm going outside to check the grounds."

John smiled. "Thanks."

The police were supposed to collect fingerprints and clothing molecules to be brought back to a lab. That's what she saw on every cop show as procedure, but Rafe had no evidence bags. She stroked her throat. Then she held her breath as the door opened and two men carrying new panes of glass came in. Afraid, she stepped behind John, who reached behind her and rubbed the base of her spine. "It's okay. They will replace everything."

Over his shoulder, she peered at the two new men. "This is crazy."

His massage helped calm her. He asked, "Why?"

"Nothing on the farm gets fixed this fast when it breaks. Normally we have to patch things up and then when we have the time we head to the store to buy whatever we need to put everything back together as best we can."

His eyes closed while he took in her every word. At least her heart didn't race quite so much. He said, "I've never done that."

Sometimes his life seemed so strange. "What about when your bike chain went off the track?"

John shrugged. "I never thought about how it was fixed."

"John, your world is very weird to me sometimes. Next you'll tell me you've never ordered off the dollar menu."

A smile broke out on his face like he'd dared something exciting. "I was on stakeouts, though I usually had delivery from restaurants I approved of, but I went for fast food once, last year. I'm still not a fan."

Once, last year, were words that spoke volumes about his life. She shook her head.

The glass repairmen were noisy but fast and slammed their car doors before driving away. Alice jumped but tried to stay calm. Not every noise had to scare her. Whoever broke the window was gone now. There was no evidence of a break-in. Could've been a ball from a kid next door, but she didn't believe that. There had to be a rational explanation.

John locked the front door, showed her a number combination to set a new security code and then let his shoulders slump. Alice gazed around the empty house. Everyone was gone and they were alone, again.

Her blood boiled. What if the intruder came back? Her mind swirled as she massaged her chest. She walked closer to John and hoped a conversation would stop the fear building. "What happened today?"

His eyebrows arched. "Someone tried to break in."

The wrong answer. Perhaps she hadn't formed her question right. Her body trembled. There had to be another reason, but John spoke to her fear. She swayed on her feet. "And we're staying here?"

Without asking, he took her hands. "You saw how security worked. I didn't call anyone and we had the cops and Morgan security within minutes. Do you have a better place in mind?"

Unsure, her mind raced. "No."

His presence was like a rock. "Then here is good."

If she stayed next to him, she might feel safe. Maybe. She tilted her head "People don't usually want to murder me, unless you count Jennifer the one time in high school I went out with Rafe."

The spark between them fizzled. "You went out with Rafe? I don't remember any of this in school."

He sounded jealous so she quickly reassured him with a squeeze of his fingers. "It was one date. We decided we would be friends, so it wasn't a big deal. Jennifer and Rafe were once inseparable, though his younger sister, Caro, was always complaining about her. She works for your brother as his maid."

The spark of heat grew again as he smiled. "You make light of situations, a lot, but I don't remember much of anyone, except you."

Now was the time to ask. Her heart skipped a beat as she hoped for an immediate yes. "It's part of my charm. Can I sleep with you tonight?"

His lips pressed together. Not good. A shiver went up her spine. Worry that she'd ruined everything swept through her.

"What about taking it slow?"

She blinked. "Just sleep." She steadied her nerves. "I won't sleep at all if I'm alone."

"Why?"

They'd slept together the night before, which had been amazing. Tonight, his arms needed to be around her. "I'm scared."

The glimmer in his eyes told her he understood. A huge sigh of relief burst free as he squeezed her shoulders and said, "Then, yes, you can sleep in my bed next to me."

She smiled. "You're perfect."

"'Thank you' is good enough."

She shrugged. Tomorrow, she'd deal with the rest of the world. Now if only she didn't turn into the sex slave she feared she'd become. At some point, she'd have to prove to herself that she had the gumption to stand on her own two feet, alone in the world. It just wouldn't be tonight.

# Chapter 26

Her suitcase was in her SUV, which left Alice with no clothes. To ensure that she didn't turn into her worst nightmare, she found a clean pair of John's sweats and his FBI t-shirt. She'd smell like him, but at least she'd have layers. The last thing she'd do was sleep next to him, naked, again.

John got out of the shower connected to his bedroom. She feigned interest in the hem of her shirt, but as he came closer it became harder to miss how solid his muscles were above the towel at his hips. At the moment she couldn't think or speak. This wasn't good at all. Next, she'd be his slave and do everything in her power to stay. To avoid his gaze she jumped into bed and hid under the covers.

The weight on the bed shifted. He must have sat. Then his hands rubbed her shoulders. "Are you tired?"

The night sky wasn't black yet, but that wasn't a polite answer. She stared at the blanket that covered her face. "Not really."

"Can we talk?"

If she'd stop being a child? She prayed he had a shirt on—those biceps of his made him hard to resist. "Okay."

"Come out from the covers then."

Seduction never started with someone acting like she was at the moment. She sat up and then froze. No shirt, and his boxers left his powerful legs exposed. One flex of his muscles, and she'd quiver with excitement. "John, I'm scared."

A sigh escaped her lips. It was too late to take her foolish behavior back and ask for a repeat of this entire evening.

He rubbed her shoulders and her muscles trembled at his touch. He took away knots that she hadn't known existed in her body.

"I'll protect you from whoever is out there. We'll get the bad guy soon."

"Not just that...." Words escaped her. She licked her lips and gazed at a drop of water that trickled down his abdomen. Alice reached for his discarded towel and dried him off so she could avoid eye contact. "That being with you, I lose me."

He wrapped his hands around hers. She dropped the towel. They sat in silence until she met his concerned gaze. "That hurts," he said. "I know I've never had a normal family to know what I'm supposed to do in situations, but I promise I do listen."

Sympathy shouldn't sway her. "John, I've never been on my own, not really."

He fixed her hair behind her ear. Her cheek moved to keep the physical contact. "And that's important to you?"

With a lift of her chin, she came closer to his lips. Breathless, she turned her face away. "Yeah. It's been my plan for the last year on how I'd survive. Independence was my prayer and now this roller coaster of a situation with you leaves me lost."

His fingers brushed against her cheek. "It's the opposite for me."

Luckily she was on the bed already because she might have toppled over with how weak her knees became at the look on his face. "How?"

His words were soft. "With you, my life feels complete. We can't force that on each other, though. In the end, if you need to walk away, I'll have to respect that."

The smell of cedar and pine overwhelmed her. The taste of him watered in her mouth. Every cell in her body ached for his touch. "I'm sorry I hurt you. For right now, kiss me."

He shifted backwards on the bed. "You said earlier no kissing."

She reached over and ran her hand through his hair. His gaze softened as he stared into her eyes. She shifted to be closer to him. "I changed my mind. I want to feel every moment with you."

He gathered her hands and held them over his heart. With bated breath she waited for whatever he'd say. His eyebrows rose. "Why?"

The pang in her heart grew. There was no escape. She had to tell him everything. "Butterflies soar every time you stroke my body. John, without you, I've been half-dead on the inside, and you've woken me up. It scares me, but I want you so bad that I ache."

She stroked his neck, then kissed where her hand had touched. A moan of delight rumbled through him. "You confuse me."

He traced her sides—she kissed his cheek as the fire inside her grew. He had to kiss her again. "Don't think," she whispered. "Let's just feel."

His grip tightened around her waist, and then whatever dam held him back broke. His lips claimed hers, hard and demanding. Her body slackened as she leaned into him to give him more room.

His fingers caressed her backside. The feel of his hands on her had to be skin to skin. The sweats were unnecessary and a wall. Right now, she needed him. She pulled back from his kiss, and lifted her body to throw the sweats and underwear across the room.

His hands fell to his sides. "Alice, we don't have to."

"Yes we do. I need you." She lifted her shirt and then sat on the bed naked and waiting for him.

For some reason, he didn't move. She reached between them and threw his towel on the floor. "Don't you want me, too?"

Then his strong arms ran up her legs. Her body ached with desire on every part of her that his fingers touched.

Right now, she needed him inside her. Nothing else mattered.

She scooted herself onto his lap and kissed him again. This time his hands traced her naked back and heat coursed through her, everywhere.

There might never be another time. The reason people almost killed her twice was because they wanted to hurt John. His life was on the line, too, even if he never said it. The future was unsure. Now was all they had. She ran her hands down his back to mirror what he did to her.

Her mouth tasted the fine wine that his offered. Every part of her soft body was hypersensitive to his strong hard muscles.

As her fingers lowered, she traced the outline of his penis. It was engorged and ready for her already. Without waiting, she lifted herself to guide him inside. He stopped and pulled out. "We need protection, Alice."

Common sense was lost in the heat of passion. He lifted her up and placed her on the bed as he went to his bureau. A moment later he had a condom, ripped the packaging and rolled it on himself. As he rejoined her on the bed, he asked, "Are you sure?"

"Don't make me beg," she said huskily and climbed on him. It was better to be a sex kitten then nothing at all. Her muscles quivered as he held himself over her.

As his lips claimed her breasts, another moan came through her. She had to have him. Now. She rolled him backwards on the bed, and lifted her hips. With her knees to the sides, she straddled him and led his cock inside her body.

If only she could believe that they'd be together forever because then she'd truly be free. Right now reckless abandon overtook her. She ached for him. All that mattered was total surrender. The wild throes of riding him released something deep that burst out of her.

# Chapter 27

Cocooned in John's embrace, Alice snuggled closer to his warmth. Everything was perfect. A giggle escaped her throat as sunshine poured through the windows. Despite how wild she was last night, this morning she was still herself.

The fear of being some crazy sex slave would never happen to her. The discussions her mother had said about orgies at the Morgan house created all that stuff in her head. This bunch of rubbish was instilled at a young age.

Alice bounced off the bed. So much energy coursed through her. She threw on John's t-shirt and headed to the kitchen to make them breakfast.

She hugged her arms as she strolled through the halls. Coffee, bagels, eggs.

Something dark caught the corner of her eye as she passed the living room. She stopped and her toes curled against the cold tile. Someone had hung a huge stuffed doll with her face painted on it right outside the big window, with red paint slashed across the neck.

The urge to throw up hit her hard and fast. She stumbled backwards and cried out.

John bolted through the hall and wrapped her into his arms. He cradled her head against his broad chest as tears spilled. He must have looked outside because his embrace became fierce. "Don't worry. I'll get that taken down."

A sigh escaped her lips. "How can I not worry?"

The smell of cedar and pine wafted in her lungs. Her pulse settled. "They didn't get in," he said.

She pulled back, her body trembling. "That's not enough. They were here. They could have seen us."

Her voice sounded weaker than she felt. He squeezed her hand. "Don't think about it."

In a twirl, she turned around and pointed toward the effigy. "Someone wants me dead."

He rubbed his jaw as she hugged herself. "It's always about you. It's strange that no one else is threatened."

As her leg brushed against the couch, she sucked in her cheeks. "That doesn't make me feel better."

He tried to offer her a smile, but no dimples appeared on his face. "I'm putting the pieces together."

Clues were good. She swallowed. "I'm nervous."

With a curt nod, he walked past her in the hall. "Go, take a shower and wash up. I'll get that down and then we'll have a nice, normal breakfast."

No. This wasn't okay. She took hold of his wrist and he turned toward her. "I'm not calm at all."

He reached for her shoulder and offered her a gentle squeeze. "Can you try?"

Those blue eyes of his still knocked her socks off, if she had socks. Perhaps she spent too much time with her mother. A small fire was set inside her that burned away the frigid air. "O...kay."

He kissed her cheek and her face grew warm. "That's my girl."

This was how everything started with him years ago. One kiss meant for her cheek had changed her entire life. He led back to his room and the shower. He tried to hide grabbing his phone and she averted her gaze to let him think he was smooth. With her head held high, she told him, "Don't get hurt if you go outside."

He nodded and stepped back. "I'll bring the security guard."

"Okay. Come right back."

The dimples showed on his face this time as he smiled. "I will."

His smile made her feel like she had sunshine bursting through her skin, so she smiled back. "We should make a plan over breakfast. I don't want to be stalked."

"Fair enough," he agreed.

"Security did a lousy job."

"I'll find out what happened."

She went back to her room to grab clothes that he supplied and change. As she walked, she breathed easier. He was right. If she'd gone to her condo or her family farm, she'd probably be dead right now.

As she exited her room, freshly showered John called her from the living room. Every footstep felt heavy. His fingers brushed his five o'clock shadow as he told her, "I have to go see my brother to ramp up security."

Her mouth opened and for a moment no question formed. She'd never understand his family dynamic. "Will he?"

"Yeah."

At least he didn't spout off some hatred of his brother. She ran her hands through her hair. If he hadn't cut off her contract, she'd have supported Peter the whole time. She shook her head. "Then why can't you just call him?"

He handed her his phone with his call log on screen. "He's not answering."

The mansion of the Morgans had the aura of an ancient unbreakable fortress. She cleared her throat. "Will it be safe if we go there?"

"Yeah."

The fast yes strengthened her resolve. She adjusted her blouse and skirt. "Then let's go. I can catch up with your sister there too."

A knock reverberated in the air and both of them turned toward the front door. Alice grabbed his arm. He massaged her back and then walked away to open the door. A moment later he called out, "It's Vicki and Jennifer."

Alice traced the bottom of her skirt. She looked presentable. "Let them in."

A moment later, heels clacked on the marble floor and his sister's voice said, "John, we need to speak to Alice without you."

"What's going on?" Alice asked.

The heels came closer to the living room as Vicki answered, "Girl stuff."

John stepped in front of his sister, but she saw both women behind him. He reached for Alice. "Give me one minute." As he stood in front of her, he held her hands to his heart. "It's important we go now."

Vicki's face had a determined look. It might be nice to solve someone else's problem instead of worry over her own. She glanced at Jennifer, who rolled her eyes. Vicki needed her. Alice squeezed John's hands. "The house is safe, if I stay here and you go?"

His eyebrows lifted. "Yeah."

With one more look at her friends, Alice smiled to reassure him that she was strong. "John, go. I'll stay here, as long as your sister keeps me company. I will follow every security procedure."

His gaze narrowed as he turned to his sister. "Vicki, will you stay with Alice until I get back?"

With a salute, Vicki giggled. "My bro is protective now."

John stood taller and all the laughter stopped. "Will you? There was another threat against Alice."

Vicki strolled past him. "Of course."

John came back to her, and took her hand. "Thanks. Alice, I'll be gone for less than hour."

Without thinking, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him goodbye. The brush of his lips on hers sent energy through her. As she lowered herself back to the ground, John nodded. "See you soon."

As soon as the front door locked, Vicki twirled, "That looked serious. What's going on?"

Her mother's lesson that it's better to not kiss and tell played in her head. This seemed more logical than her earlier fears. She'd almost lost everything by heeding that advice. Instead she turned toward Jennifer who was dressed like she was ready for the runway. "Why are you both here? It's early."

Vicki practically exploded as she paced with her hands in the air. "Jennifer is planning a huge scene at our house in a few hours. I need help talking her out of it."

Jennifer's loud sigh echoed in the air.

The woman had taken a video of the man who almost grabbed her the other day, and then sent the clip into the police. Not totally evil. Alice chewed her lip. "Why?"

Vicki turned to Jennifer and shook her head. "She thinks Peter is sleeping with someone else."

Wow. Alice flinched. "I thought they were friends with benefits. That's not exclusive."

Jennifer studied her nails. "Don't be rude."

Alice settled her attention on Vicki. "I'm not trying to be rude at all. Where is Peter?"

Vicki bit her lip. "At work or at home."

A scoff came from between Jennifer's lips. "Victoria is trying to talk me out of going, but I'm planning the stage perfectly."

This sounded sketchy. Alice crossed her hands. "What are you talking about?"

With a toss of her hair, Jennifer was the epitome of a soap star. "I'm setting him up to admit everything."

Alice's eyes widened as she saw how Vicki's face lost color. "Admit what?"

The laugh that Jennifer uttered sounded bitter. "Some woman was in his bedroom last night."

Vicki rubbed the back of her neck, almost exactly like her brother, as she said, "How do you know?"

With a click of her heels, all attention went to Jennifer. "It wasn't my perfume I smelled."

In defense Vicki argued, "What if it was mine? I'm his sister and I could have spilt something on him."

Jennifer crossed her arms but stood with one leg to the side like she was modeling her shoes. "No, it was too floral. I'm not stupid and it was more than that. I could tell Peter had sex and it wasn't with me."

Alice piped into the conversation. "So don't call him and find someone else."

Jennifer's mouth opened as she studied Alice. For a split second, Alice repeated high school and felt that small. "That's too easy."

No, she'd not turn back into a quivering mess of a teenager. She was an adult now. She lifted her chin as Vicki suggested, "Let him see you with another guy and walk away."

With a sad spark in her eyes, Jennifer leaned closer to Alice. "You're both missing the point. It's fun to smoke a man's entire world. He thinks he can lie? I'll show him he's the one being a fool."

Alice's stomach clenched as she asked, "How?"

Jennifer tossed her hair to the side. "I already asked Rafe to find out who the girl is."

Alice and Vicki both asked in unison, "What?"

The police should be working on finding her would-be killer, not exploring Jennifer's sorry excuse for a love life. Alice kept a tight grip on her thoughts and didn't say anything else.

Jennifer shrugged. "He'll find her."

If he did, then he wasn't spending enough time on her case. Alice squared her shoulders. "Did you have proof to give him?"

Jennifer smiled. "I'm sure there is DNA on the sheets."

Vicki's voice shook. "You took his sheets?"

Jennifer turned her focus to Vicki. "He'll never know."

Alice blinked. Rafe Soliz was her friend, but he had mentioned Jennifer in high school too. Her breaths were shallow. He wouldn't put Jennifer's nonsense case first when she had a real case, would he?

Vicki's jaw clicked. "How?"

Jennifer went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of iced tea. Then she returned. "He has maids and Caro told me everything."

Alice shook her head. "You're crazy."

Jennifer turned to her with a pout on her lips. "So are you, if you don't shore up whatever is going on with you and John."

Alice went and found herself a cold drink. The delay mixed with iced helped her focus her thoughts. She returned and nodded. "You might be right. Would you like iced tea?"

Vicki then bounced to her feet and Alice glanced at her as she excitedly asked, "What?"

"Iced tea?"

"No thanks."

The lump in her throat formed and she had to cough to get it out. "I had my mother in my head and I was so scared of falling apart that I was willing to run away. Once whatever the threat is goes away, I'm going to see if there is a future and if John wants one, with me."

Vicki hugged her. "Good for you."

Alice shook her head and gazed back at the window. "Someone was spying on us last night."

Jennifer laughed. "Don't tell me you're worried someone videotaped you to put it online."

"Eww." Alice clutched her stomach. "No. Does that happen?"

The answer was an obvious yes, but not something that had ever crossed her mind. Jennifer said, "Yeah, but don't worry about it. I'm sure John will find out who was there."

Not once had Jennifer ever talked badly about John. It was strange. Perhaps that was the closest Jennifer came to an approval of any relationship. Alice turned back to the window and shook her head. "I'm so sick of waiting. Scared. There has to be a faster way."

Smiling, happy Vicki said, "Patience is a virtue."

The beat of her heart was steady at the moment and if she thought about this morning's message, she'd drive herself crazy. "Wait, let's change the topic."

Jennifer narrowed her gaze. "To what?"

Alice crossed her arms. "To where _you_ have been, Vicki. You never explained."

Vicki took a step backwards, like she'd leave if that was an option. "I was in Europe."

Alice shrugged her shoulders. "You let us all think you died."

With her eyes closed, Vicki took deep breaths. "Part of me did die. I couldn't live in my own skin."

Jennifer stayed absolutely still and her voice became quieter. "What does that mean?"

Vicki clutched her stomach and Alice wondered if there was a baby involved. The will reading replayed in her mind as Vicki said, "My father stole something more precious to me than my own life and there is nothing I can do to get it back."

If her best friend had been pregnant, she'd have known about it. Alice let the thought go, dropped her hands to her sides, and spoke in a soft voice. "That sounds horrible. What was it?"

"I can't talk about it." Vicki rocked on her feet. "Not yet anyhow. So I'm focusing on my family, love that exists between people, and my shop—which will become my fashion empire. You'll have to be my first customer, Alice, for a wedding dress."

It was Alice's turn to step backwards. "I'm not getting married."

With a smile on her face, Vicki asked, "Want me to discuss that with John?"

"No."

The front door opened and a split second later John called out, "Discuss what?"

Oh, goodness. With her fingers crossed she prayed he hadn't heard this conversation. Vicki rushed to give her brother a hug as he stepped into the living room. "You're back. That was fast."

John hugged his sister, and then came to Alice's side to give her a kiss on her cheek. "Peter's not home."

She clutched his arm. If he wasn't there, then they wouldn't have extra security. "He's not?"

The clack of heels echoed on the floor as Jennifer hurried to the front door. "I have to go."

Vicki rushed and hugged them both, and then raced out after Jennifer.

* * *

Together they followed their guests' footsteps to the front door. John reached out and locked it. Alice stood up on her tiptoes to be closer to John's face as adrenaline rushed through her. "Did you amp up Morgan security at least?"

John turned back to her with a smile that showed off his sexy dimples. "Yes, we spoke on the phone."

The energy inside her couldn't be contained. "Good. John, I don't want to sit here and wait for someone to attack us again."

"What do you want to do?"

As she pointed to the door, the squeal of Vicki's tires reverberated in the air and Alice's hands shook. "Go out there and wrangle up the intruder in our lives."

John nodded. "Let's review the clues together first."

"Huh?"

He reached out and took her shaking hands in his. "Solving a case usually requires going through mounds of paperwork. We have email evidence, the phone message, and the video. We have mounting clues. Help me put the pieces together."

She bit her lower lip. This was at last something useful to do. She hugged her waist. "Where do we get started?"

He led her back to the rest of the house. "I have my case brief in the bedroom. Let me get it."

The charged energy she felt needed direction. In the bedroom, she'd likely get distracted. "Let me put coffee on and I'll meet you in the kitchen."

The threat would end soon and there would be nothing that stood in her way.

# Chapter 28

John sat next to Alice in the kitchen as they studied everything they had. His years in the FBI had taught him how to build a case. The organization of this empowered him. Alice replayed the video that Jennifer took of the man that reached for her again. He glanced toward her and something flashed on the screen. "Go back."

"What?" She handed him her laptop. "Where do you want me to play?"

The scene went backwards, but nothing caught his attention other than a man's profile beneath a dark cap.

His sister's quick thinking to order Jennifer to take video as she saved Alice showed her intelligence.

A knock at the door chilled his blood. He pushed his chair back as he stood. "Wait here."

She picked up the piece of paper detailing the first email to read. John walked toward the front door and peered through the hole. His old boss from the FBI stood on the front step. Finally. John ran his hand through his hair and opened the door. "Smith."

With a curled lip, his ex-boss peeked around the foyer and then said, "I'm here for your badge, Morgan."

John's jaw tightened. "I thought you'd send an agent days ago."

Just as John remembered, Smith curled his mouth into his usual sneer. "I wanted to do this myself."

With a frown, John let the man walk into the foyer and closed the door behind him. "Any headway on who is after Alice?"

"I'm here to review what you have. It won't take long."

Smith hated him and didn't care what happened to Alice. He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Let me get everything."

Sweet-sounding Alice's voice penetrated the cold. "Who's at the door?"

With clenched teeth, John hoped to avoid niceties and send the man on his way. "Agent Steve Smith, my former boss, from the FBI. He's not staying long."

Smith straightened his shoulders. "This is the brunette from the note. I had no idea your tastes were quite so clean and innocent, Morgan."

Smith wasn't worth spending another moment with. John told Alice, "I have to go to my room and get him his badge. Please ignore him. I usually do."

With a welcoming expression on her face, Alice reached out to shake Smith's hand. His ex-boss actually broke a smile. "How did you get to be John's boss?"

Smith turned his back on John like he wasn't in the room. "Morgan was transferred to my division a few months ago. He had some personal insight on a few cases under investigation."

Alice laughed. "Rich people that the Morgans knew, no doubt."

Smith's metallic voice grated on his eardrums. "You're very perceptive."

His former boss wasn't worthy of being in the same room with Alice. From now on, he'd keep people like him from soiling her hands. John walked past them both to get his badge from the top drawer of his nightstand. Perhaps it was time to claim his last name and his birthright.

The door slammed and John closed his eyes. Had Smith forgotten something in his car? He slid open the drawer, picked up his badge and job-issued gun. His personal gun was still locked inside the drawer.

For years, John had planned on using the gun to arrest Mitch Morgan and right the world. Now he'd never have that opportunity, but his heart was okay with how things had turned out.

Alice kept him grounded in a way he'd never been before. She'd be his forever, once he convinced her his feelings were real.

He returned to the hallway. Ice went up his spine the second he entered the foyer. His gut felt like someone sucker-punched him and a buzz sounded in his ears. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. "Hello?"

No answer.

A sour taste in his mouth grew as his stomach rolled. This wasn't happening. _No_. With heavy footsteps, he walked back to the front door. Unlocked, it opened wide into the blazing hot sun. All the humidity of the outside stuffed the room with its overpowering presence, but his skin was cold and clammy.

Alice was gone.

Agent Smith kidnapped his Alice.

# Chapter 29

Alice woke up in the back of a car and tried to scream. With a pain in her chest, she clamped down on the impulse. The whimper she made was muffled anyhow.

Something was tied across her mouth. Adrenaline spiked through her. There had to be a way out. Despite the dizziness, she lifted her feet and realized they were free. Her shoulders were so tight that the pain brought tears to her eyes, but she squirmed anyway. She tried to wiggle her arms, but cold metallic handcuffs kept her locked in place.

The noise to her left sounded like she was in a fast moving car. With her head down, she decided to slowly open her eyes. Leather seats stuck to her skin.

This was a small sedan with a window, probably shatterproof glass, that blocked her from the front seat.

"You're awake."

The male voice of the man in the foyer. He must have been sitting and watching her. Her mind raced. She knew his name. The words escaped her until she remembered the words 'Agent Smith.' That was it. She hadn't known he was the agent of death. "Aren't you one of the good guys who work for the FBI?"

"The lines got blurred the day we let people like your boyfriend in."

The best weapon she had right now was to humanize herself and keep talking. The car rumbled. "Why? He sought justice."

The rapid turn of the wheel sent the car in a spin. Black spots formed in her eyes. Then the car came to a complete stop. In a reflex her head hit the glass, and she saw stars.

Smith threw open her door and grabbed her hair. She was dizzy, but the place looked familiar. As they walked to an elevator in the parking lot, her heart raced but she recognized where she was. This was her new condo building.

He pressed the button to the top floor as he dragged her along. The building had just been finished yesterday. It was brand new. Her mind swirled with information as her stomach tightened.

She breathed in, but every inhale was pained. She licked her dry lips and tried to speak. At first no words came out, but finally she had the courage to continue and said, "Please let me go."

"Your boyfriend deserves to be punished."

Tears formed in her eyes as the elevator climbed. She backed into the wall as he let her go for the moment and crossed his arms. "Revenge isn't justice. Rich boys like him don't know anything about how the real world works."

If the doors opened, she'd run down the hall to the stairs and make it to the first floor. She held her head up. "So you're punishing him for crossing the lines?"

"I intend to make Morgan pay."

The beep of the floor echoed inside her and Smith's grimy hands grabbed her by the neck as she flinched. "What did he do to you?"

"He breathes and thought he was my equal."

Smith dragged her down the hall, close to the stairwell. The penthouse apartment was three feet at most to salvation. "So you hate him enough to destroy your career?"

"Yes."

A chill went down her as her chin trembled. "Why would that take over your life?"

"You ask too many questions."

Her limbs shook, but she had to keep it together. "I grew up on a farm where everything we do is grounded and made in an effort to grow the right fruits."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

At least she had his attention. Now she'd try to talk her way out of this. "On a farm, it takes more work than just planting the seed for the fruit to blossom. You worked hard to be a boss at the FBI. You earned a pension to retire on. You have to have a plan."

"I do."

Smith opened the door to an unfinished apartment. The wind rattled plastic sheets that were taped onto walls.

He stilled for a moment as the door behind them to the apartment creaked shut. She was inside this empty place with no windows. He locked the door behind them, and the image of falling to her death played in her mind. She had to keep talking. It was her only option. "What is it? It can't be better than government security."

He grabbed the handcuffs and dragged her to a machine used in construction. He tied her cuffed hands with the rubbery material. "My partner in this intends to leave the country and if I help her, then I get a one-time settlement that pays for all my expenses the rest of my life."

The rubber pressed deeper into her skin than the cuffs, and she cringed as he tied her tight. Then he unhooked the cuffs and stuffed them in his pocket.

Without a word he hit a button on a huge machine and her hands went into the air. "So if you kill me then you get to retire right now. That's the plan?"

"Basically."

The machine continued to lift her. As her feet rose in the air, she squealed. Then he hit another button. He planned to drop her to her death. Her heart raced. She was running out of time. "Are you waiting to trap John too?"

"That's plan A. Plan B is to kill you and let him find your dead body."

Okay... he meant to lure John here. There might be time. "I'm not that important to him. He'll get over me in a second."

"Now that is a lie."

The wind outside rattled the plastic wraps. Her voice sounded shrill and she blinked uncontrollably. "It's the truth. He has so many women. I seriously doubt he'd care if I died."

With one punch, he knocked the plastic so it flapped outside. The rustling of the wrap sent a chill down her spine. "He said he'd marry you."

Her limbs shook, but the rubber tie kept her in place. "How would you know he said that? And I don't take that serious so you shouldn't either."

"I've never heard him on the phone with another woman, saying those words."

"He didn't say that on the phone."

"Are you with him twenty-four hours a day to know what he says to who?"

Of course the FBI had tapped their line. She pleaded with him. "It's a joke. He doesn't truly care."

"You're the one who's delusional. Now be brave."

He hit another button on that machine and she felt herself swing outside. "Where are you going?"

"To the spot where we planned your death. It's going to be a long way down."

The wind slapped her in the face as she dangled high above the ground. Her heart thundered. "Plan A requires John to be here, remember."

"We'll just let you hang until he is."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm busy."

Footsteps echoed in her ears. She swallowed and opened her eyes. There was no escape. She was trapped. It might be better to close her eyes and just let herself die. The rapidness of her heart might be a kinder death than a fall. It had better not be John falling for a trap.

The wind knocked the rubber ties that held her and her feet swung.

# Chapter 30

Alone, Alice refused to look down as the wind swung her in the air. Hyperventilation hadn't helped her racing pulse. She squeezed her eyes tightly as she prayed. If she was to fall to her death, then it was cruel to hold onto hope. They were on the top floor of her new condo complex. If somehow she lived through this, she'd never step foot in a high rise again.

"You think you can get away with stealing my man."

Her heart hammered in her chest. Jennifer. She swayed which turned her around in the air. Alice kept her eyes closed, but she called out, "Help."

"Why should I help...." Jennifer's voice stopped midsentence, while Alice's heart thrashed in her ears. Then Jennifer called out, "Alice? Is this a joke? What are you doing here?"

Her throat was so dry. She kept her eyes closed as her head swam. "Please get me down."

"How did you get out the window?"

This was a cruel torture. Out of all people to save her, she had not expected Jennifer. She was going to fall to her death any minute. Her body convulsed. "Please, just help me."

"Hold on. Let me figure it out."

Her limbs tingled. This was her only hope. Alice swallowed, "Hurry."

The large industrial sound of a lever screeched in the air and Alice's heart raced. As she swung, she opened her eyes and plastic hit her in the face. She grimaced, but then she saw the apartment floor below. Her entire body felt weak. She would survive.

"I came to confront the girl sleeping with Peter," Jennifer said.

Now was not a good time for conversation. Alice's heart thrashed in her ears.

"I was kidnapped." Her feet tiptoed on the floor. Jennifer had saved her. She'd never say another bad thing about her again. Then without one plea, Jennifer reached above her and tried to untie the rubber. With a grunt, the actress opened her purse and found her keys.

"I have a pocket knife for the handcuffs. These are not police-issued. Give me a second."

Nothing made sense. The Spanish telenovelas were filmed in a nice area of town, so Jennifer wouldn't need a knife, not that she was complaining. With a few strikes, her new best friend freed her.

Alice collapsed to the ground as she tried to compose herself. Tears in her eyes welled as she gripped the floor. "Thank you."

"The girl sleeping with Peter kidnapped you?"

"I didn't see a girl. It was John's boss at the FBI."

Jennifer reached out to help her stand. Alice's legs were weak, but she found her balance as Jennifer said, "No wonder Rafe said the government database was giving him trouble."

Alice rubbed her forehead. "He told you that?"

Jennifer held onto her arm as Alice stumbled closer to the door and the elevator. They had to get out of here in case Smith, or his mysterious benefactress, returned. "I was in his office demanding a name on that DNA."

Adrenaline pumped in her veins. "Is Officer Soliz here?"

"No. I drove here myself."

Jennifer let her go so Alice could walk on her own two feet. A few steps later, Alice had her strength back. "Jennifer, can you drive me to the Morgan mansion?"

Alice went to open the door, but Jennifer grabbed her hand. " _Escuchar_. The elevator just dinged in the hallway."

Her hands shook. "We can't be here."

"There is no place to hide."

Alice stared at her feet and then at Jennifer. Her gaze returned to her new friend. "Take off your heels."

"What?"

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. They were out of time.

Alice pointed. "Those can be used as weapons. We just have to get to the stairwell."

"You want me to run without high heels?"

She closed her eyes and prayed. "Yes."

As she opened her eyes, Jennifer handed her one shoe and kept the other, stiletto out. "I could just slap him."

Someone was outside the door. Alice tensed and whispered, "He's stronger than that."

"You've never seen me slap a man."

"Actually, I have. Hit and run to the stairs. This is the plan." The door handle opened. Alice gathered her energy that surged from the near-death adrenaline rush.

Smith stepped into the room. Alice lifted her hands and then crashed the shoe spike on his head. The heel broke, but he went down. "Run."

"You broke my shoe."

She grabbed Jennifer's hand and held tight. "Now."

Hand in hand they raced toward the stairwell. As the door closed behind them, Alice broke the glass on the fire alarm and pulled it.

The loud screeching sound pierced through the air. Other people joined them on the steps as they raced downward.

Her heart hammered in her chest as they made their way outside.

# Chapter 31

Excessive energy coursed through John as he held his phone. His mind raced as he waited for his security team to pick up on his ring. As he peered out the window, his hands twitched. No one answered. He paced. There should be video footage of his front yard.

As his hands shook he made a fast plan. First he'd call the police. Then he'd call DC and report what happened to Smith's superiors. None of this helped him search for Alice, but he had clues.

A racing heartbeat echoed in his chest as the phone rang again, but this time, he swung open the door and jogged to the car where Morgan's security should be.

Nobody was there. _Pick up, Rafe._ The seconds ticked and finally Officer Soliz answered. "Good morning, Mr. Morgan. What's going on?"

John rocked on his feet and peered inside the black van. "Alice was kidnapped out of my house."

Something metallic screeched in his ear as Rafe shouted, "What?"

He tapped his finger against the van window. "I let Special Agent Steven Smith into my house to collect my badge. I went to get the badge and when I came back, they were gone."

"I'm on my way."

John swung open the van door. No one was inside. "Security will have a video, if I can find them."

"John, we'll find her."

His neck stiffened. This wasn't good. "Hurry."

If no one was in the security truck, then either Smith went after his people or they were on patrol around the property.

No need to panic. He dialed Washington. With his free arm curled around the back of his head, he paced before his front door and waited to be connected to someone. Then he spoke to Smith's boss and repeated the story.

No matter what it took, he had to save Alice. His life wasn't as important. A few minutes later, the supervisor told him, "We're sending our men to help you now, Mr. Morgan."

The FBI and the police were both good at solving crimes, but not for prevention. He swallowed back his thoughts as a police cruiser came into view.

Rafe parked and walked from the cruiser, waving toward another patrolman who then sped away. John stared at his Mercedes. If he knew where to go, he'd be there already. He had to figure out where she was taken so he could get her back. As Rafe walked over and stood next to him, John couldn't hide his pain. "We have to find Alice."

Rafe patted him on the back. John shook his head. Sympathy didn't help her and that was all that mattered.

Security chose that moment to turn the corner from the back of his house. John crossed his arms. These two were supposed to answer their phones if they walked away from the van, not that it mattered. John called out to them, "Where is the video of Smith taking Alice?"

Both men stood straight, like they were new cadets in the Marines. One said, "We sent it in, sir."

John walked in front of them like a drill sergeant. "You did what?"

The boy shook in his boots as he repeated his training. "We saw the entire thing sir, including the black sedan take off from your driveway. Ron caught everything on video, and all digital files save automatically at Morgan security headquarters. From there, they disseminate the information."

The information rang in his head as truth. He backed up and stared at Rafe and then back to the men. "Give me the number immediately to whoever is on staff. Headquarters are still in the same place?"

"On the estate, sir."

"At Peter's house?"

"Yes."

Clarification always helped. John pointed Rafe to his driveway. They'd take his Mercedes. He then told the security detail, "Call it in to the police department too. We need to give Rafe the video. The license plate?"

"Yes, sir."

Rafe held up one finger. "Did either of you write the plate down?"

"Yes, sir."

As he paced, John cleared his head. Hot heads caused trouble, and that was the last thing Alice needed. "Then get me everything you have."

The security guard nodded. "Immediately."

John shook his head. Rafe told him, "We'll find her. Hurting her is meant to hurt you. We should still have time."

He puffed his chest out and accepted that fear had clouded his judgment. Now it was time to study the information and find her as fast as they were able. "The case I worked has never been about someone I care for before."

"Let me handle the police work."

John thought Rafe would have been a decent partner back in the FBI. That life was over now, as long as he found Alice, alive.

A moment later he had an APB out for the black Chrysler sedan with license plate X23NK9. Rafe turned back to John. "We're doing everything we can."

With a curt nod, there was no more argument. "I want to go to my brother's house and watch the video."

"Okay, but I'll have to take it once we're done there."

The police needed the evidence to arrest Smith. Video was enough to convict, usually, as it makes denial an impossible defense. The car ride to Castle Morgan went fast and John barged in the front door without knocking.

Victoria came rushing downstairs in high heels and a sundress. If his sister was alive, then miracles were possible. He needed another one.

He walked straight past her and toward the main security hub. "John, what's going on?"

"No time, Vicki."

Her heels clanked on the marble floors as she chased him. "Is it Alice? I want to help."

If he had time, he'd catch her up. Right now every second mattered. "We're here for the video."

Security stood up as they all rushed into the room. John walked right to the computer and hit the button to bring up the timestamp at his house.

His sister tugged on his chair. "What video?"

Rafe took her hand in his and told her, "Alice has been kidnapped."

Vicki jumped back and her eyes widened. "What? I'm getting Peter. We're helping."

With the click-clack of her heels, she threw open the door and charged down the hall. John found the car and watched how Smith threw Alice into his car like a rag doll.

His fists clenched. He'd kill him, the second he saw him.

Vicki must have thrown open the master bedroom on the first floor because a woman screamed. Time froze. John gulped as recognition dawned. He had heard that scream before. He left Rafe with security and followed in Vicki's footsteps.

A moment later, he planted his feet apart and pushed up his sleeves as he stared at the brunette. With a clenched jaw, he turned his gaze to Peter who threw on a t-shirt. "Frank Hudson's daughter?"

Peter tilted his head and stared hard at his brother and sister. The cluelessness in his expression told John he was innocent. Peter rolled his shirt down to cover his underwear. "Yes, John, she's Serena. We met her...."

John turned his attention back to the brunette as she stood with her arms crossed beneath her bra. Serena held her head high, challenging him. "You were there when I arrested your father."

Her jaw clenched and her words held her arrogance. "I'm surprised you noticed."

Pressing his lips together, his gut told him this girl knew exactly what happened to Alice and how to get her back. "Why are you here?"

Serena raised her eyebrows and didn't move. "Excuse me. What?"

Vicki tugged on his arm as she stood next to him. "She's clearly just had sex with Peter."

Everyone would understand in a moment. With his shoulders back, John stepped into the room. "Why Peter? Why Miami? Why now? You sent the threats."

Serena tilted her head and laughed. "I what?"

That was all he needed to know she was guilty. Every cell in his body told him to ensure this girl never saw life without prison bars in front of her. "If Alice is dead, then you have no idea the pain I will cause in your life."

She threw her arms on her hips in righteous anger. "You stormed into my house, arrested my father, destroyed my family because you hated your own--so, yes, I will destroy yours."

Walking into the bedroom, Rafe knocked on the open door. "I have an APB report. We've found the car."

Serena shook her head and stared at him with furious eyes. "Your girlfriend will be dead by the time you get there."

Rafe stepped in front of John and asked, "Have you hurt her already?"

Serena stared past Rafe and her brown eyes held the fire of hatred. She narrowed her gaze like she could kill him with one look. "Define 'hurt.'"

A few more needles in this conversation would make her confess, just like her father and most criminals had once they'd been arrested. "I don't have time for games. Where is Alice?"

Serena smiled like she had exciting news to share. "She's gone. She's dead by now. Get over it."

Vicki sobbed and as John couldn't comfort her, she ran to Peter who massaged her shoulders as she called out, "Why would you hurt Alice?"

Serena scowled at Peter and Vicki like they'd done something that she hadn't planned. John's muscles tightened in case he had to defend his family.

Then Serena turned her full hatred back to him. "John Morgan doesn't get to play God with our lives and then roam free. I took from him what he took from me, all sense of home and family."

Peter hugged Vicki and said, "You're wrong."

Serena turned toward him, and the air around her chilled him. "Excuse me?"

Peter and Vicki held hands as they walked to John. Vicki reached out and took his hand as Peter said, "John, Vicki and I might not be much of a family, but we're the Morgans. If Rafe doesn't arrest you, I'm sure I'll find justice for you."

All this talk of family was a bit much. John let go of Vicki's hand. Vicki then commanded in a strong, determined voice, "Peter, put some pants on and grab your keys. We have to help John find Alice."

Rafe stepped forward and threw the handcuffs on Serena.

Smith remained out there and he had Alice. Right now that was all John needed to focus on. He'd save her. He had to. With fast, sure steps he walked toward the door. If Serena bankrolled the crime, Smith was about to implement his exit strategy to get out. He had to outthink him, fast.

The footsteps behind him sounded like everyone intended to come along for the ride, but he couldn't wait. Nothing could slow him down.

Then someone banged on the door. John reached for his gun as security shouted, "They're clear."

Smith had been clear too. Neither Rafe nor John moved. Peter pushed Vicki behind him as security buzzed whoever was outside in. First Jennifer walked in. Rafe lowered his gun, but John's skin stayed hypersensitive and alert. A moment later, Alice pushed her way inside.

Rafe dragged Serena outside as John locked his gun in place. His skin tingled and his thoughts didn't make any connections.

Jennifer stopped, crossed her arms, and clicked her heel like she intended a huge fight. "Who's this?"

Alice's blue eyes were moist and wet. John rushed past Jennifer who stalked toward his brother. Then Alice threw her arms around his neck. If the heavens knew how to set a man's soul ablaze from one touch, then they blessed her with the skill. She hugged him and life surged back into his spine. With her face nuzzled in his chest, she asked, "Is this over now?"

Her hair was like silk as he ran his rough fingers through it to cradle her head. "Yes."

Without letting go of his neck, she trembled. "Can we go home? I want to talk to you, alone."

Smith was still out there. Officer Rafe Soliz had his APB and location. John decided to trust the police and turned all his attention toward Alice. He massaged her back. "Of course."

She let go of his neck, but took his hand as she dragged him toward the door. It was clear she didn't want to be in the Morgan mansion. Alone, he could tell her that all was right with the world now that they were together again.

# Chapter 32

Her heart hammered in her chest. Alice tugged John's arm. She couldn't wait to tell him. She turned to the huge house and the green trees that created the illusion of shade. It was fitting they were here. She turned him into the garden next to the driveway, as she wasn't ready to drive to John's house. They walked toward the gazebo. The sun shined down and birds chirped in the air. She held onto his arm. "I didn't want an audience to hear me."

He rubbed her hand and nodded. "It's fine. We'll go home soon."

She closed her eyes. _This was it_. She took a deep breath and everything else around them faded away. As she opened her eyes, he had an ethereal glow around him. "John, I'm so in love with you."

Deep dimples appeared on his cheeks. Her heart raced as he cleared his throat. Then he leaned his forehead on hers. "Good, because I love you too."

Her stomach fluttered. "You do?"

His hands clasped her waist, and an electrical jolt rushed through her. "Yes. And I've tried to tell you for weeks, but you won't listen."

She laughed. "What?"

He kissed her nose, and then went down on one knee. Her heart fluttered as she stared at him. "I want to ask you a question."

Her hand covered her mouth. "What?"

As he reached into his pocket, his face went white. Then he bolted upright. "Wait right here. Don't move."

A smile grew across her face. "Okay, my love."

His mouth brushed against hers. She tried to hold him close, but he stepped back. She laughed as he ran toward his car.

A moment later, he slammed the car door shut and ran back toward her. Then he went down on one knee and held out a jewelry box. "It's been in my jacket."

That whole weak-knee moment was real. Her eyes watered. John opened the box and revealed a diamond larger than she'd ever seen. "Will you marry me, Alice?"

Alice jumped up in the air, pulling him with her so she could wrap her arms around his shoulders. "Yes. Of course."

With a huge grin, he slipped the ring on her finger.

A sigh escaped her lips as she stared at her hand, resting and sparkling on his shoulder. "John, we're doing this. Really?"

He hugged her. "Even if your mother disapproves."

"I would rather spend my life with you than have a life without you."

Out of the blue, her phone rang. Alice reached into her back pocket to silence it, but she saw it was her mom. "She's right on time."

John held her in his arms as she answered. "He—"

"Sweetheart, stay safe." Her mother's voice was so high that it took a second to understand. Alice stepped back and covered her mouth.

Her gaze stayed on John though his eyes narrowed. She asked, "What?"

"Give me the phone." The man that tied her up and left her to die. Smith. Alice recognized his voice. She fumbled to get the phone on speaker.

Now that John could hear, she screamed, "Who was that?"

John motioned with his finger for Alice to stay quiet as he used his cell phone to text someone. She was so dizzy that she couldn't form a sentence.

Then Smith caused both of them to freeze as he said, "Alice, your mom is coming with me as insurance that I get to the airport."

The front door of the main house opened and the police, Victoria, Peter, and Jennifer followed. "Where is my dad?"

Smith's inhale reverberated in the air with a ring. "You have a dad that lives here?"

Colt and Clara were also there, unless he went to the beach condo. Alice held her tongue, not wanting to give away her family to Smith. Officer Soliz and the others stayed behind her, though it was obvious that they rushed around to do something.

Her stomach clenched and her vision blurred. She closed her eyes and rocked on her feet. At any moment her father might walk in and then this would get so much worse. Her dad had a heart issue. "Oh, God."

John texted Colt. She grabbed his arm to keep him next to her, as she saw the name on her screen.

With her hands shaking, she begged into the phone, "Please leave my family alone."

Smith sighed. "I will. Tell your mom to get in the car."

No. This was wrong. She rubbed her forehead and tried to loosen her tight shoulders. "The police arrested Serena. Now is the time for you to run."

Then gunshots echoed in the house. Black spots danced before her eyes and her pulse rushed. The phone turned off as Mom screamed.

Alice trembled and the world became black even as there was a swarm of activity around her. John's arm around her waist was the only warmth she felt as he picked her up and rushed her toward his car. Alice needed her mom and in the end the arguing never mattered.

# Chapter 33

Palm trees flashed by her car window and she focused on the yellow line of the road. Alice's nerves were raw. She flinched as the yellow line disappeared and the paved road turned rocky. The farm. Strawberries scented the air, and her muscles tensed.

The police sirens behind them did nothing to help her tension. As John stopped the car in front of her old house, she fought off the image of her parents dead on the floor. They had to be fine.

A moment later, her mother ran out of the front door and threw her arms around her. "Alice."

Her mother hugged her hard. "Mom."

John placed his hand on her lower spine. "Are you okay, Mrs. Collins?"

Her mother pulled away, but she kept their hands locked together. "Yes. No. Colt has that man tied up in the kitchen."

Alice stayed near John so she could smell his woodsy scent. "How is Dad?"

Her mother brushed her hair out of her face. "He's grateful you weren't here. I took Clara to our neighbors until this is over."

Alice folded her fingers over her mothers. "Good idea. Can we go in?"

Her mother lifted her hand and let the diamond shine in the sunshine. "What is this you're wearing?"

Alice took her hand away from her mother. "Mom, John and I are getting married."

Her mother's face went white. "The man wanted to kill us because of John. Now you're marrying him?"

Alice stood next to John and nodded. "It's not a question. It's a fact, Mom."

Tears formed on her mother's face, but then she reached out and hugged John too. John seemed baffled as he reached one hand around to hug her.

Ellie pulled away, but then raised her hand and finger. "Fine. John, if you hurt my daughter...."

John lowered his head. "I won't."

Her mother continued with her finger in the air. "Then keep her safe."

Alice pressed her lips together. She'd not scold him more. "Mom."

Ellie stepped to the side and pointed to the door. "Fine. Let's go inside." She then pushed her way between them and took both their arms and looped herself with them. "John, where is your family?"

John held the door for them. "Vicki wanted to stay at home in case we needed logistics. Peter is coming now."

Alice tilted her head and tried to see John. "Without Jennifer?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Did you want her?"

She'd find a way to thank Jennifer later, but right now Alice had everyone she needed. "No."

More cars parked on the dirt lot by the farmhouse and John let her mother's arm go. He waited and held the door open for his brother and Officer Soliz. A moment later, Peter came through the door with papers in his hands. Soliz walked over to Smith. John rubbed Alice's arm, but then followed Soliz. His years of FBI training instilled the law in him.

Peter went to her parents and handed them a few sheets of paper. Curious as to what made her dad smile, Alice joined them and heard, "This contract is fair."

A noise escaped her throat. "Contract?"

Peter nodded, though he stared at John who spoke with Colt and Special Agent Smith chained to a chair. "We've done business together for a decade, and now that you're marrying my brother, I figured we should ensure both of our sides stay happy."

Alice rubbed her neck. "But you said...."

Peter nodded and turned toward her, away from her parents. "I thought you hurt my brother at the funeral. Don't hold that against me."

Her mother walked away in a huff. Alice stood next to her father and shook her head. "I'm still confused."

John's hand on her back sent a warm spark through her. He studied the papers. "What's happening?"

None of this mattered. Now that she was to marry John, her life was perfect. She crossed her fingers and hoped he agreed. "Peter just renewed the contract for the farm."

Her father folded the papers. "This looks excellent, but we'll have to talk it over with Colt."

John's eyes held a sparkle though she saw both surprise and confusion. She used her thumbs to massage her wrist as he said, "That's amazing. Everything worked out."

Her stomach hardened for a moment as she reached for John's arm. "John, you offered...."

With those dimples back on his cheeks, he gave her a smile. "I still need your help with the rest of my life and where I should spend my money. You're not getting off the hook."

A huge sigh escaped her mouth. Everyone else blurred in the background as she threw her arms around John. "Deal."

He hugged her and kept her close. "I love you."

As she stepped out of his embrace, she took her dad's hand. Her mother came back toward them as Alice had John shake her father's hand. "Welcome to our family, Mr. Morgan. I hope you grow to like family."

Peter added, "There is always a job at Morgan Enterprises for my brother."

John nodded his acknowledgment and shook her father's hand. "Alice gets her eye color from you."

Her father placed his hand on her mother's back and kept her close. "Yes, she does."

John turned toward her and squeezed Alice's hand. "Thanks to you, I see what the point of a family is."

With time, her mother would accept John. The rest of the world would sort itself out.

# Chapter 34

_A few weeks later...._

* * *

Alice stared at the stick in the bathroom one more time. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. The image of a family with John played in her head. She fanned herself, turned on the bedroom light, and jumped on the bed.

John turned toward her, but his eyes were still closed. "What time is it?"

With one glance outside, the morning sun shone. It was probably just after five AM. His arms wrapped around her waist, but he otherwise didn't stir from the bed.

This couldn't wait. A giggle escaped her lips as she shook him. "John, there is something I have to tell you."

As her hands trembled, he sat up, took her hand, and rubbed his head. "What?"

A lightness grew in her chest. A huge grin grew as she said, "I'm pregnant."

His mouth fell open and he froze with his hand still on his head. "What?"

The bed bounced as she threw her arms around him. "I said I'm pregnant."

His arms wrapped around her waist and he hugged her. "I can't believe it."

A breathless joy settled in her as his entire face beamed as he stared at her. He lifted her legs off the floor and had her lie down where he was. "I'll call for a doctor's appointment as soon as the office opens. Let's not tell anyone until then."

He kissed her forehead and lifted the blankets back above her knees. "You're the boss."

As she lay next to him, he cradled her in his arms. Now was not the time to relax as her heart beat too strongly. She kissed his neck and chin. "I have another idea."

A yawn escaped his lips. Then he kissed her back. "You're crazy."

She turned and settled on top of his chest. He held her hands but otherwise didn't move. "Online it says that we should make love more often now that I'm with child. It helps the baby have an easier birth."

He tipped his head back and laughed. Then his hand went under the sheets and cupped her bottom. Without another word, he kissed her lips and rolled her on her back.

_THE END_ I hope you enjoyed Alice and John's story like I did. The next book in the series, Secret Baby is where Victoria discovers her baby didn't die in childbirth and Colt Collins, the man her father never wanted her with now protects their daughter. Get your copy Now!

And to find out about new books, sign up for my newsletter: <https://victoriapinder.com>

# Secret Baby Preview

Victoria Morgan smiled at the young woman about to purchase the most elaborate Sophia Tolli bridal gown in her boutique. A vibration made Vicki turn and peek at the screen on her vibrating cell phone. _Did you have a kid and not tell anyone?_

Her lips parted and her heart skipped a beat. While she waited for the credit card to process, her unsteady fingers typed a reply. _Call me._

_Can't._ Vicki's hands shook while she tore the receipt from the printer and handed it to the bride-to-be. Her phone vibrated again. "You're going to be so happy," she managed, handing the woman a pen, then glanced at her brother's text.

_Colt's at my house with a little girl that looks like you._

_She looks like me?_

After shoving the receipt beneath the register tray, Vicki walked around the counter and placed trembling fingers on the soon-to-be-bride's back as she guided her to the exit. "It's a gorgeous gown, and you'll be an even more gorgeous bride."

Vicki managed to remain upright through the parting pleasantries until the moment the door latched shut. Her chest constricted, and she grabbed for a counter and doubled over, gasping for air. It couldn't be. Her baby had died. It was why she'd left town years ago. Right?

"Josie, I have to go," she called to her store manager, as she fumbled for her phone and checked her bag for keys.

"Sure. You're white as a ghost," Josie answered, as she glanced at Vicki from behind a pouf of white lace she'd been steaming. "Hope everything is okay. Can I do something to help?"

"No, thank you."

The phone vibrated again. _Get over here, now._

_On my way. Stall him._

She ran out the door.

Her brother, John Morgan, was engaged to Alice Collins, Colt's little sister. Vicki swallowed as she fumbled to get her keys. Her father, Mitch Morgan's fingerprints were all over this. Her father had been the only person with her the day she found out her own daughter died, and he had always intended her to help Morgan Enterprises succeed.

His pressure to date one of his future acquisitions was why she let her family believe her to be dead.

How did Colt Collins get involved in this? And why would he have her baby?

She had a pain in her chest as she dropped the keys onto the ground. She fell to her knees to pick them up.

Her mind swirled. Alice had mentioned to her Colt was leaving his service with the Marines soon. She hadn't mentioned a child. Vicki's gaze clouded.

She brushed her knees then ran in the parking lot.

Had Colt stolen their daughter? Images of the past all collided in her head, where nothing made sense. This was too much to believe, considering how things ended between them. She hadn't told him she was pregnant. Then, the day of her baby's birth, she'd run and disappeared. Colt had been at boot camp then. He couldn't have taken her baby. She needed to breathe. Vicki ran to her Lexus SUV parked behind in the lot.

Her heart raced, and she fumbled with her keys as she tried to get them into the lock, but she succeeded and jumped into the driver's seat. Tugging at her ear, she started the engine and waited for someone in the next spot to close a car door. Her skin prickled with unease.

Finally, she drove out of the back gate.

One fact repeated itself over and over in her brain as she stared at the red light. Her father had been the one with her at the hospital the day she gave birth then lost her baby.

Everyone in the House of Morgan had one person to blame, including her.

Her adrenaline spiked, but she worked out the situation. The Marines didn't let out cadets during advanced training to be an officer and they didn't let them return with infants, but Mitch Morgan had specific ideals on how he could profit on her life, like she was a business deal.

She nodded to herself. This was logical. Something else happened, and the foul taste in her mouth reeked of a Morgan trick.

Her heavy stomach refused to accept this. Her baby being alive changed everything. Cocking her head to the side of the road, she saw sunshine that beamed onto the street in front of her. What if what John texted was true and her daughter lived? Her hand flew to her chest, like she could hold in the hope growing there.

Like the humidity in Miami, the sensation pressed through faster than lightning in her skin.

Someone walked across the street, and Vicki slammed on the brakes. She'd almost missed the red light. Lowering her forehead to the steering wheel, she took a deep breath and waited for the dizziness to abate and her thoughts to clear. She inhaled deeply. She'd been so stupid.

The light turned green and she continued on. Touching her mother's necklace around her neck helped steady her. Vicki shook off the powerful fear and turned down the last street. Colt had been the most honest man she'd ever known. He was nothing like the men who wished to impress the House of Morgan, her father's way to say "family."

After driving well over the speed limit, she finally parked in John's driveway and fixed her gray floral skirt and pink blouse. She stepped out into the pressing, never-ending heat, and took a deep breath to stop her stomach from flipping.

She massaged her throat and stared at the white door. Then she gazed into the front yard. Colt's old blue pickup truck and a Marines license plate made her knees buckle. He was here. Breathlessly, she told herself there was a reason, but it didn't matter.

Her high heels clinked on the pavement of the driveway. She tried to not believe. Her baby was dead. She shouldn't let her heart race so fast. Everything was a probably a misunderstanding and wishing on her part.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she battled to steady her racing pulse. She finally pressed the doorbell and waited for someone to open. Questions flew through her head. What would her baby look like? She must have her blonde hair for John to recognize her. Perhaps her eyes too?

Seeing with her own eyes her baby being alive was all that mattered, as her foot tapped against the stoop and she heard Alice's voice inside.

Vicki stared at the ground, forced herself to inhale and exhale, but her hands twitched at her side. The lock clicked and Vicki waited. A memory flashed to the day at the hospital. Her father hadn't said anything when the nurse told her, except he said everything was as it should be.

Her breath hitched as the door opened. Mitch Morgan's crimes grew if he truly did this.

Heaviness spread down her spine and pressed against her heart.

The doors opened, and she hesitated. Vicki rubbed her forearms and fought the chill spreading through her body. Alice smiled at her and opened the door wider. "Hello. We weren't expecting you, Vicki."

She gazed into Colt's brown eyes. Her childhood crush's face lost its color, and the tension in her body lessened. For four weeks, Colt had been hers, and her mouth fell open slightly. The Marines had transformed him from sexy, cute boy to hard-bodied, muscular man. Those strong arms, wide shoulders, and deliciously sexy body were all new. But the coldness he stared back at her with kept her silent.

Alice called out, "John, Vicki's here."

She then walked backward and went to the bedroom.

Vicki couldn't breathe. She did a double take. Colt wouldn't lie. Her father had always lied. What happened? And where was her baby?

She swallowed, and her gaze went to bedroom door.

John stood in the kitchen with a tray and coughed for her attention. She turned toward him, but she was lightheaded. Her heart cracked open. The air in the room held something, and she was in the right place. Her eyes met her brother's stare, and she asked, "Where is she?"

John's eyes widened. Vicki refused to listen. Not now. John nodded at her. "In the other room."

A moment later Alice ran out of the bedroom chasing a blonde, blue-eyed little girl. "Vicki, this is my niece Clara."

Vicki's heart melted as she stared at her daughter.

Her ears replayed the named Clara, and she swallowed. Colt had chosen his mother's name.

He had to have known from the beginning.

Impossible. Her heart beat faster, so fast it almost fell out of her ribs. Stepping backward in the hall, Vicki stared at the girl. Her heart screamed that she had found her daughter. She covered her mouth; the fluttering in her stomach had her skin all a tingle.

Colt stepped in her vision, shook his head, and picked up the little girl immediately. "Clara, honey, it's time to go."

Vicki gripped the end table, but knocked the lamp over. No. Colt could not take her away.

Alice stared at her wide-eyed. "My brother is home to stay and brought his daughter over to visit me. Vicki, you're white as a ghost."

Another betrayal, but this time from her best friend. The thought brought back some coherency.

"His daughter?" Vicki asked in a shaky voice. Then she stared at the little girl. She had her blonde hair, not Colt's dark hair. But she had her father's face. "Did you know, Alice?"

Alice's eyes narrowed. "Know what?"

Vicki pursed her lips. A heavy cloud descended upon her brain as she thought one word to herself: _lies_. Fumbling for words, she met Colt's narrowed and stormy stare. She'd ask Alice later, but right now she turned, gulped, and asked, "Haven't you been in Afghanistan? How do you have a daughter?"

"Someone had to care for her." Colt's strong arms held that girl tight to his chest. "I made time for my daughter, as any man would."

The girl laughed. "Daddy, who's she?"

Colt kept the girl wrapped in his arms. "No one, sweetheart. We have to go."

John stepped next to Alice and called out, "Colt, wait. We all have eyes. My sister faked her death for years. She will have a good reason."

"Clara deserves more than excuses." Colt stepped away and grabbed a small bag.

Vicki's voice cracked. "What? Colt, is she—"

"You know who she is, and why I don't want my daughter hurt," Colt interrupted, and carried his daughter toward the door. "Leave us alone, Victoria Morgan."

Alice called out in a small voice, "What are you talking about?"

Right now Vicki couldn't let him leave. Six years of her life were all a lie. Vicki stepped forward and got in Colt's way as he made a beeline for the door. She inhaled, and Colt had the same smell of oranges mixed with oak trees. Her nose turned toward him despite everything, and no argument formed. All she could do was ask, "Please, Colt, what's going on?"

"Why am I the one with answers?" He kissed the girl, who giggled in his arms. "I came home from war and wanted my daughter to visit my sister and her soon-to-be husband. What are you asking me?"

Her heart raced, though her muscles went rigid. "Who's her mother?"

"Don't do this in front of her." Colt shook his head and tried to cover the girl's ears. "Step out of the way, Victoria."

"Daddy, is that lady my mom?" Clara's singsong voice and trust in Colt knocked Vicki hard in her stomach. "She's awfully pretty."

Vicki's breath hitched. Her baby was alive.

Colt bounced the girl in his arm. "Doesn't matter, sweetheart. Daddy loves you."

"Am I?" Vicki repeated the question with a high voice, her hand on her chest. She needed to hear the affirmation.

"This isn't possible." Alice shook her head. "When in the world did my brother date my best friend?"

Vicki didn't look at her friend, though her heart hammered as she stared into Colt's brown eyes.

"Don't hurt her, Victoria Morgan. The House of Morgan has done enough damage." Colt stepped around her and opened the front door. He kept his daughter in his arms, and outside, on the front stoop, he called to his sister, "Alice, we'll get together another time."

A sudden coldness hit Vicki's core. She doubled over the second the door closed and she heard his truck engine. The words hadn't formed in her mouth to say something to stop him. Her muscles went rigid again. She couldn't believe Colt Collins would deceive her. Unlike her father, Colt had always been a stand-up guy. A small part of her heart whispered that he'd been the one to keep Clara safe.

Her baby's name was Clara.

It was a pretty name.

John came over and hugged her. Turning to her brother, she let him hold her trembling body.

Alice sat on her couch with her mouth open. Then she rubbed her pregnant belly. John repositioned himself to hold his fiancée's hand too. Alice tapped his leg and then switched seats with John to sit next to Vicki. Vicki hardly noticed anything until Alice took her hand. Her friend now smelled more like a mom as she quietly asked, "Did you have a baby with my brother, Vicki?"

Vicki's eyes widened. She'd never spoken about this. Everything in her head was fuzzy, but she nodded.

Alice clutched her stomach, and John dropped hers to massage his wife's shoulder and arm.

Alice pressed her lips together. "Why didn't you say anything? I didn't know you even dated my brother."

"A month doesn't count as dating." Clawing her nails into the seat cushion, Vicki forced herself to relax. She gazed at the marble floors and then up to the windows that showed Biscayne Bay. The water view somehow cleared her mind. Vicki swallowed and stared at Alice. "My baby died the day she was born."

"No one told me about you and Colt." Alice shook her head. "For years, your name never came up. Please explain this one more time. How did you have my brother's baby without me knowing?"

Vicki bit her lip then answered, "Before college, we both went on that trip to Paris, for the orchestra. You weren't there."

"The church-sponsored choir? I don't believe it." Alice pushed John's knees down then asked, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Vicki closed her eyes and let the words fly out. "Dad said he'd take care of me if I stayed home, and didn't start at UM right away. He'd say he'd fix everything so that we weren't giving up on my dreams." Her stomach rolled.

John quietly said, "I never came home from college, Vic. I should have been here for you."

Vicki's gaze flew to her brother's. "The House of Morgan is above everyone else." Vicki's lips curled as she repeated her father's infamous words. "John, you escaped because Peter was the oldest, but I believed our dad. He lied to everyone, but I thought I was the exception."

"He hurt all of us." John's arm went around Alice, and he nodded. "A baby would interfere with his plan to marry you off to the highest bidder."

"The House of Morgan doesn't answer to anyone." Vicki jerked away and stared at her brother. He had their father's nose, though Peter had more of the personality. Tears that she refused to shed formed in her eyes. "You knew him. We were his pawns."

Alice made a sound in her throat and everyone stared at her. Then she asked, "Why didn't you tell my brother?"

The humidity outside the air-conditioned walls would push Vicki toward the ground and take over. Her body felt hot. She swallowed her retort that he'd slept with another woman the day he left. Alice would defend her brother. Vicki's cheeks felt wet from tears that refused to stop. "I wanted to tell Colt, but he had gone to basic over the summer, then officer school in the fall. When the time came closer to my due date, I was ready to tell him. I told Dad my plan to go to DC before Colt shipped out. Dad threatened to take our family fortune away from me if I tried. It was to be my daughter's inheritance." The whine in her voice shouldn't exist. She had no one to blame. "I wish I had told Colt. A few months after giving birth, I ran away."

"You didn't know Dad went that far." John leaned closer to pat her knee. "You told me in confidence at the will reading how you lost your baby. The second I saw the little girl with Colt, I saw you, Vicki. She even has the Morgan birthmark on the bottom of her foot."

"You saw that?" Vicki's eyes watered fully now, but she saw through her soaked eyelashes. "I'm so grateful. Ever since that day, I've never been whole."

"Neither of you better think, for one second, my brother would steal Vicki's baby from her. That's insane," Alice added fast, and crossed her arms. "Colt is one of the best men I know, and I'm not saying that because he's my brother. He's moral and fair and awesome."

Vicki blushed. She shook her head, then wrung the edge of her blouse. Her heart still raced. "No. Dad would have, not Colt. The House of Morgan must always stand, or something like that. I was so stupid."

Vicki's spine was rigid, and she squirmed in her seat.

Alice sighed. "I don't understand. If you think that, why would you have not told my brother he was going to be a father? Just because you're the heirs of a fortune doesn't mean your family controls you."

"Our father controlled everything." John turned to her and placed his hand on her knee. "You say that because your parents love you, unconditionally. We never had that."

Alice shook her head, but said nothing else.

Vicki held her head in her hands and stared at the ground. Her stomach flipped like she was still the teenager whose father thought her the worst daughter. She'd not get sick. "I was eighteen and knocked up by a man with ties to government agencies that might threaten my father's business empire."

"We own a farm, though Dad had been in the service and my brother joined the Marines," Alice said. "Was your father selling to both sides of any war?"

"Probably, but the ties you have, it was enough."

"Look, you're my best friend, but Colt's my brother. I'm trying to understand. Let me put the dots together. Your brother Peter is still dating the horrible Jennifer, though he's been kind to all of us lately. John came to town on a mission to destroy your father, which is how we fell in love, and I know you faked your death, Vicki. I can believe all of this, but my mind is still trying to grasp what you said about Colt. He'd have protected you just as he watched out for Clara. Why didn't you go to him?"

"I couldn't. I stupidly wanted to be a good daughter, and then it was too late."

Alice smacked her lips, but said nothing.

"Colt was the perfect guy that I was forbidden to date." Vicki rubbed the back of her neck and hoped the heat vanished. "He was off limits because he was a Collins, but my heart told me he was so different than everyone else."

John added, "Alice thought I was a spoiled, rich brat, and until recently hated my guts."

"I didn't hate you. I just didn't like you." Alice smiled, and Vicki watched the engaged couple tighten their handholding. "Then you stole my heart."

Part of Vicki's heart soared. Love was supposed to be happy, like with these two. Her life was complicated.

She gave a closed-lip smile, then Vicki told them, "I found out as I packed my bags for college of my pregnancy, and Colt shipped out the next day for basic. He had his life planned to leave Miami for a while and never come back. I had my life planned with music that helped keep my sanity in my father's world. We were going our separate ways. So I thought my life changed with a baby. Then my dad promised to support me, and he's all I ever knew."

Alice narrowed her eyes. "Colt's had Clara since the day she was born. I didn't know you were the mother. He never said anything to me, and I never guessed you'd have had sex with him."

"The girl has my hair," Vicki argued fast, though she regretted the words.

"Lots of women are blondes. I didn't know you even liked Colt." Alice stood and twirled like she would go to the kitchen. Then she stopped and gazed at Vicki. "You're going to have to talk to him, but he had that look of a bear out to protect his baby just now."

"Where does he live?" Vicki asked. She had to pull herself together. She had to talk to Colt and make him understand. "I've not seen him since we came home from that summer trip to Europe."

Alice stood, walked over, and opened the refrigerator, and refused to stare at Vicki. Vicki gazed at her friend as she pulled out vegetables to chop. Alice found a large knife and went to the counter to dice. Finally Vicki followed and stood next to her. Alice wiped her face dry, shook her head, and finished. "He's staying at our family's ranch now, and our parents live in Palm Beach, near the beach, as a sort of retirement."

To see Clara, she'd face Colt. "So he's alone with Clara?"

Alice chopped the celery. "Until his new fiancée, Belle, gets out of the service and joins him here. She's never been to Florida, but the wedding is in two months. They planned to move north to the bigger ranch and tend to the planting up there, but now I don't know. I can call my dad, but I'd guess Colt's seen enough war. He wants to stick to his farm and not come off it."

Vicki closed her eyes and, despite having to face down Colt, fought back a fit of hysterical laughter. Her baby had lived. She'd been a fool, but she had a second chance. Motherhood meant she was necessary. She had risked her neck, but now giddiness rose in her. For the first time, it was enough. "I'll head there, then. My daughter will need her mother."

**OrderSecret Baby Now!**

# Forbidden Crown

Please check out the entire Princes of Avce Series and get caught up.

**Princes of Avce**

Forbidden Crown

Forbidden Prince

Forbidden Royal

Forbidden Duke

Forbidden Earl

Forbidden Monsieur

Forbidden Marquis

Forbidden Count (coming soon)

Forbidden Noble (coming soon)

Princes of Avce 1-3

Princes of Avce 4-6

And don't forget to pick up Returning for Valentine's (FREE if you go to my website)

# Chapter 1

Kristin Wells held her refurbished pocketbook close to her chest, scratched side in. She'd spent an hour before her interview this morning buffing out the flaw in the black leather.

She tapped her feet on the marble floor of the hotel. She'd applied for this position three months ago while browsing the job postings at her current employer, Miami Insurance. Who wouldn't want to travel the world as secretary for the Royal Prince Antonio Aussa, the world's most eligible bachelor? She hadn't seen much of the world, and never a man as gorgeous as the prince in the photos.

Her shoe slipped off. _Drat._ She reached down and fixed it as her heart raced. Her best friend Renee had convinced her to go for it—what did she have to lose by applying? And now here she sat in a Marriott Hotel conference room, her legs jittering despite skipping her morning coffee. Kristin glanced at the old curmudgeon with steel-gray hair and round brown glasses that sat at a black, shining desk near the door. If she got the job, would she report to this woman? She avoided eye contact but smiled as much as possible.

The older lady stood and pointed toward the door to an interior office. Kristin got the impression that this was a temporary set up—the only thing on the desk was a phone. "You may go in now, Ms. Wells."

At least the interview would give her a peek at Antonio, who she'd researched online. He was a playboy prince from a country next to Italy that wasn't quite as big. If she landed this job, she'd have to brush up on her Italian to ensure his social calendar stayed in order. But most important had been that smile of his. It was magnetic. With luck, she'd see it in person.

"Are you thinking about running away?" The older woman asked.

"I'm going in. Thanks." She fixed her black skirt, went inside the empty room and closed the door. Her heart beat out of control.

Bright sun reflected off the ocean visible from the glass walls and she ducked her head. The hotel must use this room for weddings, she thought. A modern, sleek metal desk, with a single white folder atop,, and two accent chairs for guests was situated in the middle of the room. The large sliding glass door would give access to the private beach, not that she was interested.

Her pale complexion and the beach had never gotten along. She chose the seat in the shaded part of the room to avoid a burn and smoothed her skirt.

A moment later, she heard the click of the door to her right and in walked Prince Antonio Aussa. A shiver so deep it woke every part of her body spread through her and she felt like she'd combust if he brushed against her. The pictures hadn't done him justice. His smile was better than magnetic, his shoulders more broad in his gray tailored suit, and his hair as shiny and rich as melted dark chocolate. He'd starred in her dreams over the last three months but the reality made her tremble.

He held out his hand in greeting. His palm looked massive compared to her small wrists, but she felt a zap when he took her hand to shake. "Nice to meet you, Your Highness." Grateful she hadn't stammered, she focused on the yellow legal pad in his hand. He hadn't said a word yet. "I'm excited to start our interview," she swallowed her nerves, "as I am very interested in this job."

_Millions of women would die to do whatever he wanted._

He cleared his throat, and took the empty seat beside her. She sat on the edge of her chair and waited while he assessed her plain brown eyes behind her black frames. Renee had urged her to get highlights in her brown hair but she hadn't had time—now she wanted to hide from his brilliance.

Her skin grew goosebumps of awareness, but she kept her mouth shut. Her current job sucked the life out of her and if she had to do one more fraudulent insurance claim she'd jump off a bridge. Her life was boring, predictable, safe. And her third masters degree wasn't taking her mind off things. Being hired as the prince's secretary would allow her to travel, and maybe pay off her condo which she could rent while away because she needed a major change and to figure out how to be happy in her skin.

He scooted his chair closer to her and her pulse raced. "Why should I choose you?"

Because if he ripped off her clothes, she wouldn't protest? Her hand shook slightly and she clutched her bag to hide it. His smile had triggered a longing for something more. Her body throbbed to know every inch of him. She'd never had a high school crush—was this feeling like that?

Kristin knew the math for them would never add up. She refused to let her emotions rule her, ever, and she certainly didn't believe in falling in love, especially at first sight.

But as his paid secretary? Her parents had instilled a solid work ethic. They were gone now and she'd honor their teaching—even the silent lessons, like love being a delusion that eventually ate away and destroyed all happiness.

Kristin needed to convince him that she was the best applicant. "My undergraduate degree is in finance, so I can run numbers for you in addition to taking notes during meetings or updating your calendar. The idea of being flexible to meet the demands of a royal prince means I get to think on my feet."

At her current job, she worked on the same items, every single day. He sat back and she felt a pang of loss that his interest in her was gone, but then he met her gaze. She couldn't look away. "You're sure of yourself."

Did he think so? Normally yes. Right now, she was a hot mess on the inside. When she tried to loosen the death grip on her pocketbook, she dropped it instead, the broken latch spilling the contents of her purse all over the floor. "Is confidence a bad thing?"

Her cheeks burned as she bent down to collect her things. Once she'd stuffed her lipstick, mascara, pads that weren't necessary at all for another few weeks, and pens into her bag, she straightened in the chair. "I'm sorry, I'm never this clumsy."

"I'm used to it. It's what happens when women meet me for the first time."

Arrogant too. She lifted her chin. "Or it's your title. A crown can be intimidating." This was an interview, not a date. Kristin had to remember why she was here. She nodded. "I'm career-oriented and a fast learner."

He crossed his arms and again her body grew warm from his perusal. Then he picked up the one folder on the desk. "Your name is Kristin Wells?"

"Yes." She had sounded breathless. She battled for control of her senses, but her skin heated and she feared she blushed.

He stared at her, gifting her with his sexy grin. He closed the folder and the snap of papers filled the air. "Would you take your glasses off for a minute?"

A simple request if her hands weren't shaking. She did her best, but lowered her lashes so she didn't have to look directly at him. If he saw into her soul, he'd see her fantasies of him and goodbye perfect job. "Umm, okay, but I do need them to see."

He took them from her. His palm made her skin jump. "You have beautiful eyes, have you ever thought of contacts?"

"Of course." Beautiful wasn't a word she'd expected to hear today, when she'd chosen her borrowed black heels, black pencil skirt and feminine white button-up blouse. Once her glasses were on her face again, she looked up. "I do have them, but I don't wear them often."

He angled his chair closer. "Any particular reason?"

If she somehow landed this job, she'd have to get her raging crush under control. She didn't like people looking directly into her eyes as he was doing right now, but she carefully chose her words to answer his question. "I'm not trying to impress anyone. I know my place and how to be a professional."

He read his paperwork again. "Kristin, your resume also says you have a marketing background."

"Yes." At least her voice sounded normal. She crossed her legs. "I've run a successful online launch for the watch band company I briefly worked at." His attention was drawn to the slit in her skirt so she uncrossed her legs, self-conscious. "We sold out of the band. Now I work for an insurance company."

His gaze returned to her eyes. "Why did you leave that job?"

The interview was back on track. Good. She could handle business. She'd always wanted to travel and learn, but she knew the value of a penny in the bank. Her parents had taught her frugal now meant security in the future. Her body eased. "The watch band was exciting, but once they sold out, her position was over."

"And insurance?"

"The insurance company because there were health benefits and a 401K, but it was so boring. Your position would be anything but, and I'm up for the challenge."

"I hope that's true." He opened the folder again and scanned the contents. "So, let's get right to this. How much are you for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year?"

Her pulse surged. Did she really have a chance here? And she had no clue how much she should say for a salary demand. What a terrible interview question! "I would need to give two weeks' notice at work, but I don't have any family obligations."

He stared at her and she noticed that his brown eyes had a hint of green. No picture had ever captured that illusive color.

"You didn't answer the question. How much are you?"

She blinked. What question, she thought but then she remembered the salary. She'd checked online and the starting salary for a secretary was forty thousand, but he wanted around the clock attention. Late nights meant she should request more. Her stomach churned. She needed to be in the ballpark number so that he didn't laugh her out of the office. "$60,000? For the extra time."

He rubbed the lower part of his chin. "That's low for what I'm asking."

Really? "For a secretary, it's a competitive price."

His grin curved into a smirk. "How much for you to be my wife?"

She jerked in her seat. Was this a joke? "Your wife?" Nothing on earth could have prepared her for this moment. Seriously. She searched every corner, every wall, wondering where the cameras were hidden.

Her mother had warned her to choose her future husband carefully and never fall for a playboy. Prince Antonio had a new girlfriend every other day. She tried to sound like she was in on the joke. "Aren't you a world-renowned bachelor with women begging to be your wife?"

He nodded as if proud. "Yes, but I want a wife with a head on her shoulders who doesn't expect my love or devotion."

The air in the room felt thinner. He was serious. She let out a sigh. "What?"

"To start, I'll pay you $150,000 a year plus living expenses for you to be my wife, and the salary has options for pay increases over time."

Her pulse raced so fast she wasn't sure how she managed to speak. The position he wanted filled was for his spouse, not a secretary. What duties would a wife perform? "What about children?" Sex?

He riffled through the file and handed her a contract as he pointed to section two, subparagraph four. "Now if you want to negotiate that's fine, but I already stipulated in the contract that I will pay a flat, one-time rate of $500,000 for the first child and then $250,000 for each additional, plus reconstructive surgery for every child produced. If you don't wish to raise any children, I can provide a twenty-four hour nursery."

The words out of his lips were cold, professional and devoid of any feelings. Love might not exist, but marriage was meant to be more than figures in a contract.

One day she had vaguely imagined she'd be a mom and have kids with a husband, dog and a house in the suburbs, but she wasn't sure. In those moments, she never once imagined herself as some princess in a castle in a country she couldn't pronounce. She met his stare and for once she didn't melt. "I'd want to raise my own children."

He held her gaze and that speck of green mesmerized her. "Would you like this job, Kristin?"

He made it sound like he was asking her to be part of his company, rather than sleep at his side for the rest of her life. Her heart pounded. Antonio would be hers. Her fingers ached to touch him, but she folded her hands in her lap. For him, this was business. Could it be for her, too? "It's a lot of money."

He nodded. "You're my top candidate. What would you need from me to close the deal?"

Life as a royal would be surreal and the only thing she could compare it to was a movie because honestly things like this didn't happen in real life. "Is this a trick?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why did you interview me like this, for a job?"

"What people are like on paper and in person can be very different. I wanted an escape clause, but now that I've met you I see you are exactly what I expected."

Her body stirred, but she deferred giving her answer. "I don't want to read every day that you're sleeping around."

She doubted a contract meant he'd be faithful, which was another reason to run out of this room. Public ridicule was not her forte. _Run, right now._

"Discretion is a necessary component in my life and I'd never publicly humiliate my family."

Raised with old-fashioned values on a Kansas farm, her parents hadn't loved one another. Kristin had vivid memories of sitting at the kitchen table when neither of them spoke a word to each other directly, using her as a go-between to pass the butter. They'd stayed together because they'd made a promise to God, and not because they were happy.

Every silent day slowly killed them.

After their deaths, she'd sold the farm and moved to the city, betraying those values. She yearned for a different life, filled with hope, but if she went and married Antonio, for wealth and security rather than working for it, there would be no redemption for her from heaven above.

Now it was time to ask the ultimate question. Each second dragged. She stared into his brown eyes, noting his regal nose and thick, dark hair. To be in his arms might be like tasting heaven itself—she couldn't let attraction rule her. She folded her hands over her knee to maintain control. Perhaps he meant that she'd go to a doctor for insemination? Anything was possible. "Would these children be created from our union?"

He leaned close and she got a hint of almond and testosterone. "Union is a nice way of talking about sex."

She blinked, her body warming as she imagined them in bed. "Sex is important."

As if he hadn't expected her to agree, he sat back—breaking the spell. "Yes it is, and yes, it would be included in the contract." He then pointed to the paper in her hand. "Attraction is not love. I want that made clear. This will not be a love match."

Secretary, wife, or go back to her desk job where nothing ever happened. Kristin tucked the strand of her French twist that had fallen out of the clip behind her ear. "How many other women have you offered this to?"

He pulled out another piece of paper from the folder. "I put the ad for a secretary out world-wide. Then I had all-inclusive background checks done on every applicant. You are my first and only choice at the moment."

She was the only? Seriously? She wasn't royal; her parents had been farmers. She had no family. She didn't know anyone important who could help him in society.

Kristin realized that made her perfect for a serial killer to stalk, not a prince to marry. "Why?"

He studied her paperwork. "Because, Kristin, you're smart, you have no family to tie you down, your only trusted friend is your roommate, Renee. You're in debt for over $100,000 in student loans, you owe $15,000 for your car and $200,000 for your condo. My offer means you can pay these off in less than three years without racking up more debt and since you've worked from the age of eight years old for your father in the stables, you understand a job is a job."

It really did come down to dollars and cents. He'd read her application and her problems in life like a spreadsheet. She adjusted her eyeglasses and focused on him. "So, I could have been anyone?"

He raised two fingers on his right hand as a "no" gesture. "You are also attractive. That was a requirement for me."

Reconstructive surgery in the contract should have given that away her brain shouted, but her heart whispered that she was overly cynical and that the man adored on multiple continents for his charm and good looks thought she was pretty. She was sure she blushed. "Two things."

He leaned forward and put his hands together. "What?"

Her fingers trembled as she picked up the contract from the desk. "I'll need twenty-four hours to decide."

"Fair enough. And two?"

This one was for her silly heart. She had to know, if they were going to share a bed, a life, the truth. If there was nothing, no spark, she couldn't go through with it. She stood and Antonio stood with her. The contract fell onto her chair, but her hands shook too much to even try to pick it up. She pushed her hair out of her face and then said, "I'll need you to kiss me now. If I don't feel anything then this will never work."

The guttural sound he made from his throat told her he approved and he wrapped his hands around her waist. Her body felt warm as butter melting on a summer day. Her eyelids fluttered as she waited for his touch. He said, "We're clear that our union is business and not love?"

She opened her eyes and met his. She had always sworn she could take care of herself and wouldn't marry someone she couldn't respect enough to talk to everyday. Love wasn't a factor. "Abundantly."

Closing her eyes again, she felt his lips inches from her mouth. "Then here..."

His kiss set her heart soaring. She held onto his shoulders to stay steady, but her foot lifted off the ground as if she might float away. His lips crushed hers in a soul-searching sweep of passion and she joined him in some place that must be heaven itself. No boy had ever come close to that kiss.

Once his lips left hers, Kristin used the desk behind her to hold herself upright.

If she left, she'd never have another kiss like that. If she stayed, she couldn't honor her parents' wishes that she marry someone who shared their manual labor, hard-working values. But they had been so unhappy. If she said yes, she might experience more of whatever had just sparked between her and Prince Antonio—she was sure her parents had never felt anything like that for each other.

Antonio read his watch. "See you tomorrow at 5 PM? Meet me here with your answer." He took his file and walked toward the door they'd come in and opened it for her.

"I'll be here, Your Highness."

# Chapter 2

Antonio Aussa stood near the window of his hotel suite, staring down at the empty beach below and then out to the ocean and mid-afternoon sun. Everyone here in Miami was tanned, except Kristin. She'd been pale, which would fit in fine in his country where the people were either snow white or olive-skinned. His ancestors clearly hailed from the Italian border.

The ring of his phone pierced the air and he ignored it for a moment. _Not more bad news_. He still needed his father and wasn't ready to be king.

He headed to the table he'd left his phone charging on by the second ring. Marco, his younger brother, popped on the screen and he knew the call wouldn't directly be about his father. His mother would have called him if anything had changed. "Hello."

Marco immediately fired off a question. "So, how did meeting your true love go, Antonio?"

True love wasn't the word he'd use, though Kristin's sweet kiss tempted him more than he would have thought. If his father was still breathing then he had time to make things right. He collapsed into the nearby chair and kept his eyes closed. He wasn't a total failure. Not yet.

Kristin was the logical choice and he valued logic, even if the meeting hadn't gone exactly as planned. That kiss replayed in his mind. "Stop. Marco, one day soon, you'll be like Lucio and myself as the clock counts down."

A click of Marco's tongue told him that his baby brother didn't approve. "I understand that I'll have to marry in two years, but I won't be cold and mechanical as you. I can't believe you hired computer experts to track down exactly what components a spouse should have—getting a wife isn't like takeout food where if you don't like it, you toss it in the trash."

Computers were good at finding people with skills to do a job—and to be the future Queen of Avce was a very important job. Truthfully, he wasn't ready to be the king so he needed a wife that offset his own flaws, for balance. "I don't have the luxury of time you have." The unknown law requiring his marriage before his birthday had just been found two months ago, since his parents had reclaimed their throne.

"Two years isn't a luxury," Marco said. "It's a death sentence, but I won't go to my execution like either of my older brothers."

Despite Marco's title, he'd spent years studying at Interpol. "You're used to facing your own death because of all the terrorism detection stuff you've learned." And execution was a strong word. Kristin's kiss hadn't felt cold, like a computer. She was sweeter than he would have thought based on her 95% aggression score in her personality profile.

At least he had facts to back him up. Lucio's image-driven strategy was sure to backfire. "And my method is nothing like Lucio's."

Marco continued with his censure. "His is slightly better than yours, and I mean that in the narrowest sense possible because his method is stupid, but at least he's face-to-face with his options. Your computer programmers chose your bride."

Silence was all that comment warranted. Besides, his only argument right now was that logic mattered more than anything else, but her kiss made him question if this was such a calculated decision after all.

"So, now that you've met her, has anything changed?"

Lust filled his thoughts. Her kiss excited him and made him feel more than the last woman he'd taken to bed. He refused to tell his brother that. He walked to the window overlooking the beach. "Nothing. I need to close the deal and get home."

Marco snorted. "What happened to you as a child?"

"Same thing that happened to you. English boarding school choked my emotions out of me." Antonio watched the beachgoers—kids with pails, parents in the surf with them, laughing. Beautiful women tanning on beach towels next to buff men in lounge chairs. In America, people seemed happy. His own country was ready for a civil war. Nobody smiled. Someone close to his parents stirred controversy around the right of kingship. When Antonio took the throne, if he took the throne, he'd have to find out who the agitator was, fast.

"If you say so," Marco said like he hadn't a care in the world. "Look, I have to go. I can't wait to meet the soon-to-be queen and give her my condolences."

_Right._ He and Lucio, as the oldest two males, had to marry by the age of thirty to stay in succession. He teased back, "Marco, I'll have my team find you the perfect woman so you have two years to persuade her. You'll need it."

"Please don't. Victor Amadeus and I have plans to sweep across Europe and the world to interview women."

The panic in his voice was all Antonio needed to smile and continue, "Oh I'm ordering the workup now. Consider this a birthday present."

"Have you spoken to Mother today?" Marco asked, quickly changing the subject.

His heart banged in his chest. Their mother was at their father's bedside, holding the king's hand as he lay in a coma. If she called, it wouldn't be good news. He stilled and stepped into the shadow, away from the sun. "No, has something changed?"

"She asked me to tell you to call. She wants to talk to all of us."

The simple words made his body grow cold. If his father took a turn for the worse, then he needed to be back in Avce right away. He'd promised his father that he'd protect the kingdom from this takeover threat and that he'd find himself a wife as decreed by some ancient law. "Talk to you later."

His stance widened and he closed the blinds. No one needed to see him as less than stoic, the trait that was often commented on as his most admired characteristic. He also cut the light so the only illumination in his suite came from the door of the other room. Satisfied he was alone in his own hotel room, he called the palace. He heard the phone click. "Mother?"

"Antonio, how is this woman you met today?"

His mother sounded stronger than the last time he saw her and she hadn't started with bad news. His gut churned, but he pretended all was normal. "If she says yes, then you'll meet her soon. How are you?"

"I'm holding on, but I need to know you'll keep our kingdom intact. The people are depending on you to lead them now."

The 24 hours, 7 days a week vigil she held at his father's sickbed was admirable, considering his parents had often acted more like partners than lovers. "I'll do my best."

"I know you will." She lowered her voice. "Your father isn't doing well."

The chill in the air grew against his neck and he sank down on the small sofa that wasn't made for a man his size. If something happened to his dad while he was in the states, he'd lose his chance to say goodbye. "What's going on?"

"He hasn't woken from his coma. I don't know how much longer he'll be with us."

One more day for his father to give him advice that he'd usually ignored in the past. This time, if he had the chance, he'd write down every word. He rested his head against the wall behind him. "Mother, I will get on the first flight home."

"No! Don't leave us in a crisis. Come home with a wife. At this point, I don't care if you stop in Vegas and marry a show girl."

Sixty days ago, before the law regarding the inheritance of the crown had been discovered, his mother would have needed to approve. Now that his marriage was a political tool being used to undermine his father's legacy, and a reason for possible civil war, things had changed.

If Kristin said no, then he just might have to marry the first available woman he found. He stood from the couch, and stretched his cramped back and stiff shoulders. "I'm in Florida, not Vegas, Mom."

"We can't lose everything, not now."

Agreed. He'd have to marry. Kristin was the best option. "I have this handled. Let's talk later."

Once he hung up, he went to his bedroom and took off his hot wool suit. Linen pants would keep him cool in this tropical heat, which he paired with a short-sleeved polo.

A few minutes later, dressed more appropriately for the weather, he returned to the phone and pulled up the map application. Checking the address from Kristin's file, he plugged in her information.

One way or another, he had to seal the deal with Kristin. He needed a wife and the sooner he was on a plane back to his father's death bed, the better. There was no time to waste.

# Chapter 3

The setting sun colored the horizon with an orange hue. Kristin turned off her car engine and stared into the clouds. _Beautiful_. As if anything was possible. Her gaze lowered from the sky to the black-tarred parking lot with yellow lines separating the many cars. Reality.

This was her normal life. If she said yes today she'd probably have a driver and wear designer clothes that would never touch the simple polyester that gave her skirt a little shine at the bottom of the black. And she wasn't sure how a crown might feel on top of her head.

She parked and then went into her three-story apartment building that spread over a half-acre of concrete.

Green grass and trees were found a block away in a tiny park she sometimes walked around. Just like all the important things in her life, it was little and tucked away somewhere. Despite their issues with each other, her parents had loved her and provided for her until they died.

After getting her master's degree, she'd moved to the city in search of a better life. But here everything was too crowded and made her existence seem even more isolated than the old farm.

She craved a change. Kristin walked into her corner building and passed her neighbor, Greg, the thirty-four-year-old scuba diver and accountant, who waved at her.

She nodded and ran up the stairs to the third floor, hoping Renee wouldn't be mad that she was late.

The clank of dishes in the kitchen greeted her as she went inside. Renee called out, "Where were you? The later we order, the longer it takes for the pizza to arrive."

Kristin put her pocketbook on the lamp table by the door and kicked off her borrowed heels, then went to the counter where Renee was making a salad. "I had my job interview with the Royal Prince Antonio Aussa from Avce this afternoon."

Renee's dark brown eyebrows arched with that quizzical expression she must give her students daily. _I know there is more._ It was how she cocked her eyebrow that made her expressive face so distinctive. "That was at three. You're late."

Kristin began to feel normal as she nodded. "I was driving around aimlessly."

Renee's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Kristin stiffened and hugged her waist to ease herself into believing Antonio Aussa was real and that the contract in her pocketbook was proof.

If she explained this, Renee would push her to say yes to Antonio. She'd say she was being silly for hesitating, but Kristin wouldn't mention the contract or the lack of love promised. Her parents had been living proof that marrying based on feelings never lasted anyhow.

Maybe her father was wrong and that for once she shouldn't be practical. _Right._ Perhaps she needed the push. She met her friend's stare. "Because he asked me to marry him."

Renee dropped the salad tongs into the huge blue plastic bowl she'd tossed romaine in. "Shut the door."

Kristin turned her head toward the front door. "I did."

"Slang. You have got to enter the 21st century." Renee reached out and took her hand. Kristin let her body relax. Renee's teasing reminded her why they were best friends. "Seriously? He asked you to marry him?"

"Yes." She couldn't quite meet Renee's gaze. The contract wasn't part of this discussion. Her friend didn't need to know that part of it. No one should.

"I saw your application for secretary...did he take one look at you and fall in love?"

Kristin shook her head fast. "Not love. That doesn't happen and never lasts anyhow."

"That's cynical and untrue—love can last a lifetime, but that's for another day." Renee squeezed her hands. "So what did you say?"

She tugged her arms free, but she kept her head down. "I needed time to think. Part of me was so mesmerized by him that I almost said yes, but my parents warned me all my life that work and security would bring me happiness. Marrying a prince I just met isn't exactly practical."

Renee laughed and said, "If a prince with billions of dollars knocked on my door and asked me to marry him, I'd say yes."

Right. Judgments weren't part of their friendship. She went to her pocketbook, dug out her phone and used the restaurant's app to order her usual pizza. "Just like that?"

"Absolutely." Renee picked up the salad tongs again.

The pizza would arrive in half an hour. _Perfect._ Kristin left her phone on the counter in the kitchen and went to the cabinet to get cups and plates. "No. No you wouldn't. You'd see through the BS, and wonder if there were any cameras taping you."

Renee walked out of the kitchen and put the salad bowl in the middle of the dining room table. "Oh, were you bamboozled in some awful prank I'll get to see on TV?"

"No." She followed her out with the plates, centering each on a placemat. "He asked me, for real. I just feel like I was being played, like maybe I'm missing something."

Renee leaned against the table and crossed her arms. "Why does he want to marry you? Did you ask that?"

"Yes." She went to the wine cooler. "He listed off my resume and personal information. It seemed like I would benefit from the deal. I should have insisted that a secretary application wasn't a prescription for finding a wife. I feel so foolish now."

"Pour some wine for both of us and we'll talk all about how you should be a princess." Renee immediately held the two glasses as Kristin popped the cork. "And I can be a princess's best friend."

Once she was done pouring, she brought the bottle to the table. "Yeah, I've not been anyone's princess since my father walked out on my mother when I was eight. When he returned home six months later, neither one of them were ever happy. They never really conversed again. You have no idea what it's like to grow up knowing your parents hate each other while they sit right next to you and speak through you."

Renee handed her a glass of wine and sipped her own. "Well, that was depressing. So let's lighten up, and you can tell me if he's as hot in real life as he is in your photos."

Kristin took a small drink and sat, her elbow on the table. "Renee, he's hotter. TV and photos...I don't know...make him somehow blander. He's sexy in such a raw powerful way that I was shaken up. I wasn't kidding—I almost said yes to his marriage proposal on the spot."

Renee held her glass near her face but hadn't sipped. "What exactly made you say 'you'd think about it?'"

Kristin gulped what was left in her glass. She'd applied for a secretarial position because it would pay off her debts and allow her to travel while getting out of the boring rut she was in. Marriage to a man that made her blood sizzle, while he insisted they couldn't feel love, ever, was a different proposition. The money was tempting, but his kiss was more. Raw hunger for him raged through her still. Once she swallowed her wine she nodded. "Self-preservation kicked in."

"What are you talking about?" Renee asked.

The kiss earlier had been off the charts and the mesmerizing personality and good looks were part of the unbelievable person that claimed her lips in a tasty scoop of yumminess that didn't compare to anything, not even her favorite chardonnay—so how could she explain it? She lifted her chin. "Despite how attractive he is, I want love to be at least part of why I get married."

Renee scoffed. "Then marry Greg in our building. He's clearly in love with you, if that's what you want."

The blond, blue-eyed Russian immigrant was cute in a puppy dog fashion, but her heart never stirred at his smile. She reached for the bottle and topped off the wine glasses because the pizza would be here soon. "No, I'm not into him at all."

Just then the doorbell rang. She put the glass down. "That's the pizza!" Where was her purse? "Can you get the door while I go find my pocketbook for the tip?"

She raced into the kitchen where she had left the phone and sure enough her pocketbook was there. Her heart stopped racing and she opened her wallet.

A moment later, she walked out with her debit card in hand and stared into the brown eyes with the green specks of Prince Antonio.

"You didn't tell me that the prince was..." Renee said.

"What?" Kristin vaguely heard her friend's voice, but she was mesmerized, again. Antonio was real and he was in her apartment.

"...coming." Renee finished and the last word was clear.

Electric bulbs sparked on at the same time in her chest. She couldn't move, so she averted her gaze in hopes to regain her sanity. "Your Highness, what are you doing here?"

He stepped closer to her and it felt like her body might melt. "Kristin, I hope I'm not intruding."

Renee's voice interrupted, "I'll give you a few minutes and head to my room."

Kristin understood she should tell her friend not to go because without Renee here, she'd be completely under the spell of Antonio. "No. Wait."

But she was too late. Renee's bedroom door clicked closed. Her pulse zipped just because she was alone with him. She licked her lips and stared at his mouth. Earlier his kiss had been out of this world. She lowered her lashes. "Your Highness..."

"Antonio." He took another step closer.

All she had to do was reach out and she could feel the strength of his arm, his jaw. Her fingers ached to do what she wanted, but she instead held her elbow under her chest. "I don't feel comfortable calling you by your first name."

He traced his finger down her arm. "I thought all Americans liked calling everyone by their first names."

She glanced up at his strong, chiseled chin. "Not you. You're a prince."

His voice was deep and the vibration of his tone dug into her skin. "I wasn't always a prince."

Nothing about them was alike. She had read all about him months ago when she'd applied for the secretarial job and then every so often because he was fun to read about. To dream about. "Growing up exiled with all your family's money in a secure Swiss bank account and attending various prestigious British institutions is not exactly roughing it."

Her parents had expected her to make her own mac and cheese from the box when she'd come home from school. He'd probably never eaten anything out of a box.

His lips tightened as if he was surprised at how she surmised his childhood. He massaged her shoulders. "Are you upset about something?"

No. Yes. She swallowed. What bothered her was how much she wanted to take him to her bedroom. She was never this wanton, but she kept that thought to herself. She glanced at him and pretended her body didn't hum. "I thought you were going to give me twenty-four hours and that we'd meet tomorrow."

"I couldn't wait that long." His deep voice was a mere whisper.

In her mind she imagined shutting the door to her room and slowly disrobing, one article of clothes at a time. Would he like that? Would he do the same? She lowered her lashes. "I don't think we should..."

"My father is ill. I have to get back to Avce right away."

Oh, he wasn't thinking about seduction at all. A cold shower every three minutes near him might remind her to be herself. She ignored the zips and zaps that coursed through her and squeezed his hand. "I understand. I'm sorry."

He placed her hand on his heart. "I was hoping you might accompany me. I'll give you a tour, take you to my favorite restaurant to get dinner. Show you my country."

"Can I come?" Renee's voice echoed through the apartment.

She hadn't heard her best friend open the door.

Neither of them moved, but Kristin called over his shoulder. "Renee, I thought you were giving us some privacy?"

Renee's voice came down the hall, then she peeked into the kitchen and pointed to the counter. "I was looking for my headphones."

Ohh. Antonio dropped her hand from his heart and her skin ached to touch him again. She tugged on her ear and neck, wishing she'd worn her mother's necklace today. The gold locket reminded her that she wasn't alone.

Renee walked into the foyer area and grabbed her bag. "Your Highness, my friend Kristin gets scared of good things happening in her life. Her parents taught her to always look for security first. It robs her of spontaneity sometimes."

Wait. What? Kristin blinked. "No I don't."

Antonio stroked his chin. "Kristin, if it would make you happy, you and your friend, Renee, are welcome to join me in my private jet."

Renee nodded her head at her behind Antonio's shoulder, but left it up to her. She shifted from one bare foot to the other. If she saw his palace and enjoyed it there, would she ever want to leave? She was in danger of ignoring the "love" portion of that contract in her bag. She gazed at him again and her heart whispered to try. "Okay. Can we get ten minutes to pack?"

Antonio stepped back so he could speak to both of them. "Sure, but remember the royal palace has everything you might possibly need."

Renee gave the thumbs up sign. "I'll be back in ten. I've never ridden in a private jet to Europe."

At least her best friend had been to Europe. Kristin hadn't ever left the southern portion of the United States.

Renee ran down the hall and out of view, and again she heard the door click. Antonio's presence overwhelmed her and she instantly fell under his spell. He reached over and touched her. "Kristin?" She looked up as he wrapped his arms around her. "I wanted to know if that kiss earlier today was my imagination playing tricks with me."

"Me too," she managed to say. Then his lips claimed hers and she felt like she was being lifted into heaven itself. The world faded away. Antonio could actually be hers because right now the only thought that floated in her mind was that she was his. Her heart had already decided.

As he ended the kiss, he smiled and traced her lips with his thumb. "Definitely not my imagination."

At least they both agreed that between them, their kisses were explosive. The contract read cold, hard facts, but the man in her arms was hot. Right now she didn't need to decide anything else. They were going.

# Chapter 4

Kristin's scuffed sneakers had seen better days, especially when compared to the plush thick blue carpet she walked on inside the jet. The small windows along the side were the only things in common with the flight she'd taken once from Miami to New Orleans. There were no rows of seats. Instead it seemed like a living room in the sky.

How could Prince Antonio think she fit into this world? At least he'd stayed and talked to the pilot, giving her this minute to adjust. If he saw how out of place she looked, he probably would reconsider his marriage proposal.

Renee looked around with a grin. Kristin whispered, "This jet is nicer than our apartment."

"Shh." Renee dropped her purse next to a seat by a window. "If you marry the prince, he'll expect you to go in things like this all the time."

Kristin's face felt hot. She shouldn't blush, so she looked at her shoes again which didn't help. "I'm not..."

"I saw you kissing him," Renee interrupted and sat in the seat. "You both have chemistry."

Kristin folded her hands together and closed her eyes. His lips on hers had been unexpectedly hot. She'd do that again, and possibly more. "I never knew a kiss could be so potent."

Which was why she'd packed her one pair of never-used, sexy underwear that she'd bought on a whim last year, and also why she'd emailed her boss requesting time off. Even if she got fired, even if she didn't marry Antonio, taking this leap into the unknown was worth the nerves.

Renee hit a button on the white leather seat and it whirred, then reclined flat like a bed. "Now that's intriguing. Here he comes," she whispered. "I'll go to sleep in this pod. Good night, Kristin."

Without another word, Renee hit another button and fully encapsulated herself in her seat pod, which blocked her face from view.

The carpets silenced Antonio's steps, but she sensed him behind her. Goosebumps grew all over her in the hope that he touched her. "Your friend is going to sleep so soon?"

"I guess." She inched away. If she didn't, she'd lean on him and at some point beg for more kisses. It wasn't good or sane, especially not near her friend.

He took her hand and led her through more chairs to a kitchen area. "Well, let me give you the tour so you can choose where you want to spend the next few hours, though I recommend getting a good night's sleep. We'll land in the morning time in Avce, with a full day ahead of us."

The stairs went up to a second floor. No flight she'd ever taken had two floors. "Take me upstairs?"

He nodded and walked with her. Once they made it to the next landing he said, "Up here is the lounge. This is for business meetings, reading, working..."

The door meant privacy. Finally. She took the contract out of her pocketbook, grabbed a pen, and then motioned for him to sit at one end of the rectangular boardroom table while she went to the other side. He stared at her and said, "Or that."

She'd figure out why he'd asked her for marriage later, but first they needed to discuss the contract. She dropped into a leather seat. "Please close the door because there are a few things I'd like to discuss."

"Sounds fair." He followed her directions. The door clicked closed and she knew no one might hear them. Her heart began to pump a little faster.

Once he was seated, his brown eyes with flecks of green caught her attention. Her slightly bent papers were now in both of her hands and she looked down. "Article 1, paragraph 7."

He tilted his head and those magnificent shoulders of his made her ache to let him hold her. He stayed in his seat and asked, "Yes?"

This was her meeting. She took a deep breath and then read the contract. "Sex without twenty-four hour notice sub-paragraph 3 states "sleeping will remain separated." I want you to delete this."

He nodded. "Okay."

She used her black pen to strike it out. She then traced her neckline and flipped the page. Once she was settled, she said, "Moving on to article 2, paragraph 3 "outward expectation" that I must always wear gold and diamonds. Delete this."

His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

She tapped her pen to the table. "I like to work out and I'm not wearing a tiara or a diamond necklace when I'm trying stay in shape. We can amend this to "reasonable" wearing of jewels and precious metals."

The sexy smirk he wore in the pictures now showed up on his face, and she swore this one felt like it was just for her. "Done."

She wrote the word reasonable and struck out always on her contract. Now her pulse zipped. She looked down and read, "And now article 3, paragraph 2, "separated quarters." I'd like this entire section removed."

He rested his elbow on the table and leaned forward, though they were still eight feet from each other. His eyebrow lifted as he stared at her. "You don't want your own quarters in the castle?"

The contract stated no falling in love clear enough, but she wasn't going to argue on that one. Once she had time, she'd find out if she could work around that provision. Her entire body ached for his touch so she kept her head down and stared at the paper in front of her. "If we are to be married and learn to trust each other, then we should share our lives as much as possible and that includes sharing a room and bed."

Once again he massaged his chin—a habit, she surmised. "So, you are thinking about signing the contract?"

She fixed her glasses on her nose and flipped the page of the contract again. "I still want to see your home, but if I do marry you, I want to be clear that I expect we'll live, eat, and work together."

He flattened his full lips and she wished he'd kiss her again. "Eat?"

"Oh yes..." She had almost lost the ability to read. She traced the paper until she found the part she needed. "Article 3, paragraph 7, "meals." I'd like this section amended where it states whenever possible, we share meals together without interruptions. I want conversation."

He folded his hands in front of him. "I tend to eat at odd hours due to the responsibilities of the crown. My title is very much a job."

Her heart hammered in her chest, but she had to ensure she had a chance at more. Her cheeks felt flushed, but old memories of her parents and how they never spoke to each other replayed in her mind. Even if she earned an "A" on school work, nothing brought them together. Then her dad died, and her mother wouldn't mention his name. She blinked and the memory was gone. "To me, the dinner table is where we should shut off the electronics and tell any advisors that you are not to be disturbed unless it's a matter of grave importance. I want us to talk to each other about our days."

"Duly noted."

She crossed out the section and wrote "eat together." Other than the part on "love" the contract was clear and laid out what was expected in their marriage, not unlike a normal prenup. She'd read plenty of those while at work. She folded the papers and smiled. "Well, this was easy."

He sat further back in his chair, the blue of his polo complementing his olive tones. "You're done then?"

She pushed the contract to the side. "Yes, though I still need to see your home before I make a final decision."

He stood and took two water bottles from a mini fridge under the counter. He joined her at her end of the table and gave her one. "I am prepared to add now that once a month, you and I will take a night for ourselves where you may choose our date activity. Dinner, dancing, movie, whatever your heart desires."

Good. She turned her knees closer toward him. Her jeans brushed against his creased linen pants, highlighting their differences. "Sounds great. Now, why are you really looking for a wife?"

He reached for her hands. "Kristin, to start this relationship with trust, I should tell you that the law states I must marry by my birthday or I will be stricken from inheriting the crown. While I might not care about the title, it also means I'd never get to see my parents or my brothers again because I can't come home, which can't happen. I want to let you see everything and decide, but when we land, I'm going to hear about my father's health. If the doctors tell me he doesn't have long left, I have to make choices fast."

"I hope your dad gets better." If she had five more minutes with her own mother before she'd died, or if there was anything she might have done to please her at that time, she'd have done it. She pressed her hands to his palms.

He let out a sigh. "The doctors are preparing for the worst."

No wonder he seemed so tense. She'd had no idea; nothing about the king's illness was in the news. "What's wrong with him?"

His intense gaze held despair, and she understood the newspapers had his character all wrong. He wasn't the playboy prince from those articles, but a loving son. A section of wall around her heart fell. His voice wavered with a thread of sadness when he said, "He had a heart attack, which led to pneumonia. Now he's been in a medicated coma for a week."

A coma was awful. Her mother's cancer had been a slow death, but Kristin had never wondered whether or not she'd wake, or if she could say goodbye. Her eyes moistened. "I am sorry."

Again he let out a sigh, but then he wiped a tear off her face. "Kristin, I'm going to kiss you now."

She licked her lips and opened her eyes wide, looking around the room. Nobody was around, and Renee was downstairs sleeping. "You are?"

He stood and offered her a hand to help her up. "I want far more from you than I expected."

He did? "Guess we'll see." She wrapped her arms around him.

His kiss made her want more than she'd expected too. She used the table for support as she wasn't sure she could balance.

No one had ever made her feel this way. His hand traced the side of her breasts and she ached. He could have all of her. She'd push past her reservations and say yes. Her parents weren't the best example of a marriage, but it was time to let that go. Antonio's arms felt right, and she'd stay within them, now and forever.

# Chapter 5

Kristin woke and immediately realized that the jet wasn't moving. Nothing purred under her, signifying that the engine was off. They must be in Avce. Kristin wiped the sleep from her eyes and pressed the button of her pod to get up from her cocoon.

She stretched and a moment later, Renee handed her an orange juice, a coffee cup in her other hand, and took the seat next to her. "Good morning. You look pale."

She clutched the armrests and met her friend's brown eyes. She bit her lower lip before she confessed, "Last night I'd have slept with Prince Antonio."

Renee looked her up and down. "So why didn't you?"

Unable to believe what had happened, she covered her eyes with her hand as she relived how he'd ended their intimate moment. "He put me to bed. Alone."

Renee sipped her coffee. "Did he say no thank you?"

Kristin shook her head. "No. Renee, I'm in uncharted waters and he's way out of my league."

Renee put her coffee down and reached for Kristin's hand. "So that's what the problem is."

Kristin blinked. "What problem?"

The plane door opened. He'd be back any second. Adrenaline rushed in her veins, but Renee was calm and kept her voice low. "He's not out of your league, Kristin. He's asked you to marry him. You offered to sleep with him. I'd guess he wanted to wait, because you're worth it."

If Renee was right, that he'd waited out of respect for her, then the energy that surged around him just grew in strength. She stared at the ground to hide her eyes. "What in the world do I have to offer someone like him? I'm not exactly cut out to be a princess."

"Perhaps that's what he wants." Renee released her hand and picked up her coffee mug. "If he wanted to marry some stuffy princess type he had the chance. Instead he asked you."

Her friend sipped. Kristin drank her orange juice in one gulp and spoke quickly, "Look, I like kissing him, but the idea that he's a prince is seriously sending me crazy mixed-up thoughts. I wish he was normal."

Renee peered into her mostly empty coffee mug. "No you don't. If you wanted normal, you'd have chosen Greg."

Again with Greg. Kristin glanced at her friend. "You mentioned him last night, too."

Renee's cheeks turned red. "I did."

"Did you like Greg, Renee?"

With a loud sigh, she nodded. "But he never noticed me and in the end I want someone who loves me because I'm awesome."

Kristin stood and then offered her hand to help her friend stand. Once Renee was up, she whispered, "Who knows? Maybe there's a hot guy in Avce that you're supposed to meet."

Renee laughed. "Shh, your boyfriend will hear you."

Antonio joined them. Kristin's heart soared. He was so handsome this morning, this time in a navy blue suit tailored for him and a crisp white shirt. "Boyfriend, huh?"

Her own face felt hot and she wished she'd had a chance to brush her hair, or wash up, so that he'd think her attractive too. "Renee gets ahead of herself sometimes."

Antonio looked spotless and perfect as he fixed his cufflinks. "Are you both ready?"

"Give us five minutes," she said. She needed to change and clean herself up. She'd look a wreck if she walked beside him in her jeans. At least she'd packed a dress.

"Paparazzi will be outside, ready to snap your picture." He kissed her fingers. "I thought I should warn you—I'll meet you near the door."

Her lips tingled with anticipation of a kiss but he left.

Kristin grabbed her carry-on bag for a change of clothes. A photo meant she'd lose her insurance job for good—proof that she wasn't sick at home with a cold. She buried the panic of not earning a paycheck and shook out her blue Calvin Klein dress with a tiny flower print. Renee had chosen capris and a knit top, with leather flats.

A few minutes later, she and Renee rushed to the front where Antonio sat with a coffee and his iPad. He put it down instantly, and walked over to her. "Take my arm, Kristin."

His muscles flexed the moment she wrapped her hands around his arm. She also felt lighter. How in the world had he found her? Now she was in his country and would see everything she could. The moment they stepped outside, people cheered and lights flashed in her face.

She turned into his shoulder to block the bright lights. "What's all this?"

He winked and led her through the crowd toward a waiting limo. "I'm returning home. This is a small crowd, but once they see that I'm with you, and they tell their friends, the crowd at the palace will grow."

Renee followed her like a rock star in over-sized sunglasses, her form fitting capris and top. Kristin wished she channeled that instead of the Easter Sunday look that gave her no sense of confidence. Kristin returned her attention to Antonio. "What am I supposed to do?"

They neared the limo and he turned around. He waved and she glued herself to his side. He whispered, "Wave." She did as he instructed while Renee hopped inside the limo. Antonio wrapped his arm around her waist. "They want to get a good look at you."

"Oh goodness." Antonio kissed her cheek. Instinct took over and she hugged him.

The cheers grew louder which broke the spell. Had he kissed her for publicity? She sucked in her breath but didn't ask here.

He motioned for her to go inside and then he was last in the limo. A few seconds later, the driver took off.

Kristin settled herself next to Antonio and felt calm and collected with his arm snug around her shoulder. He smiled that sexy grin of his and he smelled like almonds. Love might not exist, but whatever she felt with Antonio was too good to ignore.

Once they were driving, he pointed out the window. "You'll notice the green hills. Our country has had every ancient empire try to depose our royal family for almost two thousand years, but we're the oldest original family monarchy. Many of my ancestors have all managed to return from abroad, just as my parents did. My grandparents were deposed with communism. My ancestors left Rome to settle here, guided by the Virgin Mary—or so the legend goes."

History was always interesting, but a hobby for the rich, according to her father. She envied Antonio's lineage. "I didn't know my grandparents. Mom raised me after Dad died. So when she died, I was by myself. I wish I knew more about my past and where my mom was even from."

His hand brushed against hers and she felt a spark banish her sadness. "I can run a DNA sample for you so you can at least read about your genetic ethnicity."

"That sounds nice, actually. I've always been so alone in the world." The limo reached the top of a hill and suddenly in the distance a huge white palace with a blue roof appeared, along with four towers. As they grew closer, adrenaline raced faster through her veins. "Is that where you live?"

He nodded. "Yes."

She continued to stare out the window. If she accepted his proposal, she'd live there too. Her biggest apartment ever had been 750 square feet and never enough closet space. "No wonder your ancestors all wanted to come home. It's beautiful."

He came beside her and her body tingled as he pointed. "My favorite part is the river that the east wing overlooks. In the morning sun, the white tower has a golden glow."

His cheek brushed against her face. She sighed and wished he'd kiss her, but she knew better. "This could all be my new home because I applied to be your secretary."

He turned and stared into her eyes. "I'd also be your husband."

It almost sounded like he wanted that for himself, and not to save his future inheritance. If he cared about her, then her life would be fabulous. The limo drove through the gates, guards on both sides. She kept his hand in hers. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake from it.

Part of her wanted to say yes, right now, and not care about anything else, but her heart whispered she didn't want to be like her mother. Her mother had bitterly cried years ago that she had married for love and should've listened to her own parents' advice that she'd made the wrong choice. She had said love was an illusion—yet Kristin still wanted to be loved.

Once the limo parked and a footman opened the door, Renee hopped out first. Kristin held Antonio's hand and whispered, "Wait. I like you. It's your title that makes me hesitate. I'm not made to be a princess, and I don't want to end up like my mother."

"What happened with your mother?"

"She was a very unhappy woman."

"That's not you." He brushed her hair away from her face. "If something happens to my father, my bride becomes the queen. I'm hoping that woman will be you."

She couldn't move. She lowered her lashes and listened to her heartbeat. She tried to imagine a crown on her head, but in her imagination it fell right off. She squeezed his hand. "Yeah, I'm normally the girl who fades into the wallpaper."

Antonio gently lifted her chin. "My mother can teach you the ways of the palace. She learned and so can you."

His mother, the queen. She likely had been born into the royal life too. She wasn't a girl from Kansas who ran from the farm and migrated to Miami for jobs that she ultimately quit, because she was never happy in any of them. She narrowed her gaze and asked, "What was your mother before your father married her?"

He winked and then slid out of the car. "His secretary actually."

"Oh, so it's a family tradition," she quipped and laughed as she followed him through massive royal blue doors that were double the size of her. Renee waited for them, nervously quiet.

He walked her through a small lobby area that rivaled a theater and then they went into a grand ballroom. Gold and gilt decorated the walls. Was it real? She stayed on his arm, but then a nice-looking man with a similar version of Antonio's face and about Antonio's age rushed over to them. "I apologize for interrupting, but my brother needs to come with me, now."

Antonio's eyes widened and he squeezed her hand a little though she could see in his gaze that he was worried. With a glance over his shoulder he nodded at someone and then returned his gaze fully to her. "Kristin, Walter here will show you to your rooms. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"All right." He kissed her hand, but she saw the pained flecks in his brownish-green hues that told her he was scared.

She joined Renee and the man charged with taking them to their rooms, but she watched as Antonio raced out of the room with his brother. Her heart thumped and she prayed everything was okay with his family.

# Chapter 6

Was it his father? Was this the end? The questions swirled in his mind, but Marco didn't slow and never said a word. He hadn't even asked for an introduction to Kristin, though the glint in his eyes gave away his interest.

They arrived at the medical ward and his heart nearly stopped. His father. He had so much to say and he wasn't ready to lose him yet. Marco opened the door and instantly his mother, Queen Anna Camilla, stood from her chair while she wiped her eyes with a tissue. The sick bed was behind the white partition, just out of view.

This must be bad news. Why hadn't they called him? His mother opened her arms. "Antonio, there you are at last."

Not even his mother's arms around him made the hole in his heart lessen. He massaged her shoulder and asked, "Mother, what happened?"

She pointed toward the sheet and the corner of the bed that peeked from behind the white curtain. "It's your father!"

No. He felt like a lost ten-year-old who called for his parents to find him in an open market. He stood stiff, not ready for this. To be king. To lead his country. To lose his father. He choked on his words. "Did he..."

"Son?" His father's raspy voice made Antonio's hair stand on end. Alive? He was alive!

His heart soared as he walked forward, pulled the curtain, and stepped closer to the bed and looked into his father's warm amber eyes. King Leopoldo looked weak and fragile, when in Antonio's memory he was larger than life. He slumped into the seat beside the bed, took his hand, and tried not to cry. "Father."

Leopoldo tapped his hand and asked in a weak tone, "Is it true you brought an American here to be your bride?"

His father coughed and the boom took over the room.

Antonio stood abruptly. "Save your voice. Yes, I did."

His mother's words echoed from behind them. "Politically, are you sure she's the best choice, son?"

According to his team of experts, yes. Politics had been part of the calculations he put into play. "Mother, our people are choosing between communism and capitalism. In marrying an American, I'm proving my capitalist leanings."

With less than sixty days in which to find a miracle, he had made a logical choice. Their gray-haired mother leaned on Marco's arm, her blue eyes wise. "Half of the country doesn't have the same value."

"Less than half, Mother." Antonio was the Crown Prince of Aussa and understood his responsibilities. "It's my job along with the rest of our family to ensure our people win the votes this fall."

"We're in trouble if the communist agenda becomes the reality again," Marco said.

True. King Leopoldo had pledged their personal bank accounts to rebuild Avce. Antonio was now guardian and he didn't take the burden lightly.

"We'd go into exile without a penny." His mother straightened.

His younger brother shrugged. "I liked England."

"Marco, this is our home." Their mother scolded her youngest son and came closer to the bed. Antonio backed away to let his mother have his spot.

His brother stayed near the door, acting like he hadn't a care in the world as he leaned on the frame. "I saw your Kristin. I must say she's quite pretty. Was that one of your factors after all?"

His search had included looks as well as brains, but nothing prepared him for actually meeting Kristin Wells. He hadn't told her about his bride-finding software, not that he was sure she'd care. But he'd hate to hurt her feelings when they were just getting to know each other. "I wasn't going to marry just anyone. She had to be nice enough to look at."

Marco patted his back. "Well, I can't wait to have a conversation with her, at dinner."

"Take care what you say." Their parents spoke quietly at his father's bedside. Antonio glanced at his brother. "I still have to convince her to marry me."

"She hasn't agreed?" Marco asked with surprise. "So why is she here?"

If his father survived, he could go a few weeks and give her time to adjust. At least until his birthday. He still had no choice to marry, but it wasn't a minute-by-minute scare and he could now offer her an actual ceremony.

Plus a few days to convince Kristin would be very pleasurable. He looked out the window to the maze in the green garden. "No, not yet. I'm giving her time to get the tour first before the ring goes on her finger for life. Now that Dad is awake, we can get married in the church where Mary had it snow."

Their mother turned from their dad's bedside, intending to join them. Marco had no care for decorum as he said, "So you figure one trip around the rose garden and a dinner in the east wing tower and she's yours."

Antonio rubbed his chin. "Dinner in the tower, alone. Thanks for the tip!"

Marco's lips wouldn't quite close. He stood there with his head tilted as he stared at him. "Wait. The playboy prince is actually trying to seduce this woman?"

His father's weak voice carried across to them. "She must be pretty then."

Antonio felt like a twelve-year-old. His face was probably crimson. "Father, we should not be having this conversation at all. You need your rest."

His mother made a _tsk_ sound and guided both of them to the door. "Your father is still in danger but the doctors agree that it's much more likely he'll have a full recovery so long as nothing upsets him, or causes him undue stress."

Antonio called out, "Father, I'd prefer to remain the Crown Prince for a while and not King—rest, please."

His father yawned. "Bring the American to meet me."

"Yes, sir." Antonio followed his mother and Marco out of the room.

Once the door clicked closed, he stared at the empty walls that once had held family portraits. The communist regime had smashed them or sold them. Now the long hall was clean, well maintained with powder blue walls, but he always felt this place was missing something. His father restored order, but he'd like to replace or find a few stolen pieces of their art. And if he hung Kristin's beautiful portrait in the hall near the grandfather clock, he'd see her just as she was right now. He shook his head. He'd not think about that. "Mother, I should go check on Kristin and her best friend, Renee."

His mother snapped her fingers. "Yes, please have them prepare for dinner. I'll ensure a variety of dresses are sent to their rooms."

Kristin had packed herself, one suitcase only. Would she be offended if suddenly his mother sent her a wardrobe, with instructions? "How did you know they'd need dresses?"

His mother shook her head. "I've never met an American with one travel bag that brought the right clothes to meet a Queen. Americans tend to either overdress for the occasion or even worse, underdress. If she is to be your bride, then I want the world to see her as perfect. I will offer my assistance."

Staff must have told his mother what Kristin carried, and if she'd unpacked any clothing worthy of note. Perhaps it was best to talk to Kristin about his mother's plans for a dress? If he made the rules, she could wear jeans because she had the perfect shape that showed off her curves in the ones she wore last night, but for now, they were talking a family state dinner. He nodded. "Thank you, Mother. I will talk to her."

His mother returned to his father's room. Antonio walked down the hall, intending to knock on Kristin's door. He made it ten feet down the blue hall when his brother called out, "Antonio!"

"Marco." He stopped and waited for his brother to catch up.

"The other one you brought with her. What's her deal?"

He hadn't researched Renee other than the fact Kristin wasn't friends with known criminals. "Renee Brown, Kristin's best friend. She's a teacher out for her summer break."

Marco crossed his arms. "Well, I'll be sure to keep her busy so you can win over your computer date."

Computer. He'd have to find a way to tell Kristin, but he wasn't sure how. "About that..." Perhaps his brother might hold his tongue. "Please do not mention the search I ran to find Kristin."

They walked down the hall together. Marco asked, "Does that mean you didn't tell her?"

"No." It shouldn't be a big deal. Lots of people used Internet searches to find what they needed and he'd needed a wife. Everything he did had been logical.

At the door to the grand hall, where ancestors threw elegant galas and the paint had specks of gold embedded, Marco asked, "Then why does she think you flew across the globe and asked her to marry you?"

Marco used to be the better brother. Lucio was the one he'd never completely trust because he suspected a trick. However, Marco currently acted more like Lucio. "Because she applied for a job. Secretary. She knows I actually required a wife."

He blinked and didn't move for a second. Finally he nodded. "I'll keep your secret, but you must tell her the truth."

There was the helpful Marco he remembered. Antonio took a deep breath. "I will, when the time is right. When I'm alone with her..." She made him forget the rest of the world. He pressed his lips together and refused to say anything like that to his baby brother. He wasn't soft and never had been so that would have been out of his normal. "Never mind."

Marco's gaze narrowed. "Never mind what?"

Now he had to say something and it wasn't going to be to tell Marco that Kristin made him forget because her lips tasted sweeter than any chocolate. He crossed his arms and chose his words. "She's nice. I like her."

Marco covered his lips though Antonio knew he held back a laugh. "You _like_ her. Well that is an improvement. I hope she says yes then. Maybe Mom won't demand you marry Sophia."

Her name alone made him want to curl up and run, which was exactly what he'd done when they were thirteen and his mother had introduced her. "Sophia?"

Marco nodded. "Didn't they tell you? She's in the castle, staying with us and _still available_."

Those sounded like his mother's words. There was no way he'd marry Sophia Venko, even if her own mother had been tossed aside because his father chose to marry Anna Camilla. Antonio was not the one to fix a wrong in the past with his own hand. "I'm sure she's hanging out with your friend Victor Amadeus. They seem friends now, and besides, she's the last person I'd ever marry."

"They are still friends." Marco continued, "She's been a _possibility_ since you were thirteen. You must have realized that Mother would bring her here now in desperate times."

It was terrifying that his mother didn't realize that he'd never tie the knot with Sophia. His pulse quickened when he thought about Kristin's lips. It was past time he saw her and spent the day convincing her to be with him. "I'm going to see Kristin and tell her about this dinner, and then I'm going to keep her out for the rest of the day."

"Have fun. I'll entertain her friend." Marco nodded. "Because I'm the _good_ brother."

"It doesn't hurt that Renee is very pretty." Marco still had two years until he would be forced to wed. He had time to have fun and sow his oats. Antonio did not, but it no longer felt like an executioner's blade aimed for his throat. If he married Kristin on his terms, he'd have everything he ever wanted plus more. He had a mission and nothing was going to stop him.

# Chapter 7

Kristin placed her pocketbook on a table near the huge bed and twirled around the bedroom. The crystal chandelier's prisms shone brightly from the sunlight outside the huge balcony windows. The white comforter kept the bedroom simple though the gold encrusted paint shimmered in the sun.

This room was made for a princess. She swallowed and stared at the huge bathroom, which might be bigger than the old farmhouse she'd grown up in.

This was how the other one percent lived. She hugged herself and slipped onto the balcony then went to the door that the maid said connected to Renee's room. She knocked and Renee said, "Come in."

Without a hello, Kristin pushed inside and studied the elegant pale gold and pink room her friend was in with her own private balcony as well. Kristin felt a moment of panic. "Renee, these rooms are huge."

Renee came over and pointed to the green trees and small brook outside their balcony doors. "Kristin, stop comparing. This rich, hot prince who trots the globe and can have anyone he wants has asked you to marry him. You are good enough and you deserve to be happy."

Only her best friend could sum up all her doubts and faults like that. They had clearly had too many bottles of wine between them. All her life she'd existed, but here she was in a fantasy. "I've never had anything like this."

Renee dragged her toward the balcony and pointed out the river in the distance. "Then it's time to start imagining that this life is possible and that you can have so much more than what you settled for. Adjusting insurance claims from your desk with the partisan walls was draining your soul."

Settled was a good word for how she'd been living, afraid to take a risk. Alone, determined to take care of herself. She was too young to be as bitter as her mother. With Antonio, she had a chance to share passion, which might grow into something more, but first she had to be happy with herself. "You're right, I was settling—I had to pay the bills, though. But you know what? Even if I don't get fired, I'm not going back. I'd rather take my chances doing something unexpected and exciting."

"It is if it steals your dreams then it's horrible." Renee swung open the balcony doors and pointed to the green hills, rolling river and birds in the sky.

It was a perfect day. "What if I don't have any dreams?"

"Everyone has dreams."

"I don't. I don't even really believe in love."

"Dreams and love both exist if you just listen." Renee then smiled and leaned against the rails. "Kristin, when is the last time you did anything for yourself?"

She crossed her arms and tried to think. She couldn't even remember the last time she had a haircut, to be honest. "I don't know."

Before Renee could say anything else, there was a knock on Renee's bedroom door. They both went in and saw the young, dark-haired maid with her head down. "His Royal Highness has requested an audience with you."

"We're coming!" Renee shouted with excitement and waved at the maid, who nodded and left. Renee raced forward, but then called behind her, "Kristin, are you ready?"

Antonio. He was such a mystery. She wasn't sure what to say or think. The contract burned in her brain. If she thought for one minute he might fall in love with her then she needed to say yes. Despite her mother's many warnings, perhaps Renee was right, and love existed. All the books she'd read made her think so. Today she had to find out. She sped up her step and joined her friend. "Yeah, let's go."

They ran down the hall and chased after the maid who kept walking faster to guide them. Soon they had the maid in a race, until they made it to a huge wooden door. The maid opened the door as she panted for breath, but Kristin swore the maid was laughing.

The moment she and Renee stepped inside, Kristin felt like she was in the ballroom of a royal palace. The chandelier was massive and the polished wood floors were made for dancing. The huge room held little furniture though there was a section behind a curtain where she spied chairs and tables. If the curtain was pulled back, the room might double in size to hold a few hundred people.

When she'd met Antonio at the hotel for her interview, she'd thought that place was perfect for a wedding. She had clearly been wrong. Antonio and his brother walked in the door opposite them that showed a large patio area closer to the river. Her heart sped up as she met Antonio's deep brown gaze.

The instant he was near her, Antonio placed his hand on the small of her back. He nodded at his brother and another man with them. "Kristin, Ms. Brown, first this is my brother, Marco. And this is his friend, Victor Amadeus."

Kristin and Renee bowed their heads in unison. "Your Highness."

Marco stepped closer to Renee. "None of that. I'm the spare of the spare and my title is just a formality." He assessed Kristin with a smile. "You are both royal guests of our house and I expect you to call me Marco."

Antonio massaged her back so she turned toward him.She immediately asked, "How is your father?"

"Getting better," Antonio said.

Kristin placed her hand on his heart and smiled. Good.

He pulled her a little closer to him. "Kristin, I was hoping you were free for lunch?"

"She's free!" Renee answered before Kristin could form a sentence.

"Renee..." She said automatically, but her gaze never left Antonio. He truly was handsome and she was lost in her desire to know him better. She nodded. "Yes, I'd love to go."

Antonio's sexy smile showed off his signature dimple. Unlike in the pictures she'd studied, this time it felt like that dimple was just for her. Her pulse quickened as he kept her close. He then nodded. "My mother has invited you both for a formal family dinner. She's offered her assistance in ensuring that you're properly attired."

She blinked and swallowed. "What?"

Antonio widened his stance, as if bracing for impact. "When we get back, my mother wants to have a selection of clothes available in your room so that you may choose what to wear for dinner."

So he must know it was not polite to assume—how thoughtful. She'd have to work on winning his mother over if she stood any chance here. Kristin turned, shared a quick look with Renee, and then smiled at Antonio. "Please tell her thank you. I'm sure that will be very helpful."

She had worn her nicest clothes the day of her interview, and wasn't sure royals ever wore the same outfit more than once. She hadn't changed from her blue dress because she wasn't sure what to wear next.

His shoulders slumped in relief and he gently patted her back. "Are you ready?"

Marco and Renee walked toward the patio area. Victor walked out of the side door without a goodbye.

Kristin stayed beside Antonio, their steps in sync, but she stopped at the door when she heard Renee laugh. Her friend leaned against one door while conversing with the youngest prince, who was doing the same thing on the other panel-style door. She swallowed guilt. "I feel bad about leaving Renee."

He kept his hand on her back. "My brother promised to take Renee on a personalized tour of Avce."

"Ohh. Wow. Really?" So they were both going to spend the rest of the day with a prince. Good, though she had the better end of the bargain. Antonio made her feel stronger, as if anything was possible, just from being next to him.

Antonio walked her to a huge door that must be the front entrance of the palace. Servants held it open for them. "This way."

"We're walking?" They went down a flight of stairs but she didn't see a car, a horse or even bicycles in front of the palace.

He pointed down the small green hill. "We'll be fine, and your sandals are flat. The village is still enclosed in walls that once protected it over a thousand years ago. I don't know about you but I need a little exercise after being cramped on the plane. They never make those pods big enough for comfort."

Good point. Two men in livery of gold and blue opened the black-railed gates for them and they walked down a small cobblestoned path. "Let's see this village."

He let go of her back, but offered his hand. She took it and they walked side-by-side with trees lining the road without any cars on it. A quarter of the way down he told her, "Tomorrow, we'll tour the gardens and plan a nice dinner on the terrace."

At some point she'd talk about that contract again. Right now, she let the sun warming the top of her head keep her calm and collected. "That sounds lovely." She glanced at him and he seemed quiet. She pressed her lips together. "So, how is your dad? Did he wake?"

"Yes." His brown eyes had those flecks of green when he stared at her. "He woke."

Flirting was easier if the stress of his father's health wasn't on his mind. "Oh wow, good. No wonder you seem lighter. Are you usually the quiet one in the family?"

"I wasn't always brooding." He traced her arm and stopped their walk halfway down the path. "I'm happier because you're here."

"You don't have to say that." If he kissed her again, she'd accept. She was ready to accept more if she was honest, but first she needed to know everything was okay with him and his family. "Is your dad going to recover?"

"I think so." He stopped smiling. "The doctors are still worried but more optimistic because he came out of his coma. We're not to put undue stress on him until he's fully recovered."

"You won't. I'm sure you're right that he has a real chance of being fine." He led her down the hill again. Her heart raced. "Can I ask a question? I thought you had two brothers?"

He tilted his head and slowed his pace. "Lucio is out of town at the moment."

"Where is he?" Her gaze narrowed and it wasn't because the sun was in her eyes, not completely. Something sounded off when it came to his brother's whereabouts—but perhaps with the marriage decree, Lucio was out finding his own wife.

Without giving her a chance to really feel her surroundings, Antonio led her down a narrow cobblestone path. She slowed and took it all in anyway, because the ancient buildings from the village reminded her of a movie from the medieval time period, but people walked around in modern clothes as they talked to each other and on their phones.

Antonio's voice caught her attention as he said, "Lucio's birthday is nine months after mine and he doesn't want to wait until the last month and then worry he won't find anyone to marry."

Now that this was the topic, she'd ask more about why he chose her. Her pulse spiked, but she pushed forward. "Why did you wait until the last minute?"

"I didn't know about the law until two months ago, when we came back to power. I certainly never met anyone I wanted to spend my life with." He settled his hands on her hips. The path to the village was dark, covered with trees that blocked the sun, though she knew people must be around. He continued to speak as it he didn't care the paparazzi might snap a picture. "My birthday is fast approaching and the law says I must marry to produce heirs."

Her lips tingled, and her heartbeat grew as she swung their hands in the air. "Which is why you advertised for a secretary—to see if there was anyone out there that might be a good fit."

He tugged her closer. "Kristin, about that..."

"It's okay," she interrupted but stayed near his massive wall of muscles. She couldn't meet his gaze as she said, "If I'd have known the position was to be your wife, I'd have probably filled it out as some sort of joke."

"So would most." It sounded like ice laced his words. He'd not kiss her here, not in this mood. Instead he led her inside the village.

They passed a bakery that made the street smell sweet as sugar cookies and people talked to their families or carried packages, like any town.

She then stopped and stared at a huge church she recognized from online, but the pictures hadn't done the place justice. In Avce, the church was supposedly built on the spot where the Virgin Mary made it snow in the middle of summer as a miraculous sign. Now stood a medieval steeple, but the walls were older and columns gave away the roman architectural style of the base. She touched the cold marble wall. "This cathedral is beautiful."

He brushed his hand on the stone next to hers. "This is the place where Mary blessed my family and told us to build a cathedral by making it snow only on this holy ground."

She had read that online, but she wanted him to tell her more. Kristin had read that the church was called Our Lady of the Snow. The article claimed that in the middle of summer the Roman couple who wanted a baby asked Mary for help and she made it snow to show where to build a cathedral. Antonio's use of the word "us" made her wonder...but nobody could trace their ancestry that far back!

"I read about the history online when I applied for your job, since working for you meant I'd be spending time here. I've always wanted to travel and see the world. Are you related to the Roman couple?"

"Yes. They are direct ancestors." He slid his hands over the silky fabric of her dress, settling his firm grip on her hips and brought her close, almost nose-to-nose. Her heart was steady and sure. "You can see all of that and more, as my wife."

"I am tempted." She closed her eyes and let the feel of being in his arms sway her.

He then whispered, "Good, because I haven't started my persuasion yet."

His lips met hers and she melted. He was everything she dared dream of as perfect. Once he ended the kiss, she stayed in his arms. "Isn't marrying a commoner forbidden?"

"No, but if it was," he kissed her cheek, "So what? I like forbidden fruit."

"But wouldn't you have to marry a royal first?"

"My ancestors made no rules about that. In fact, a few of the supposed nobles got the girl pregnant first and if she had a son then they'd marry her."

On the street behind them she heard people whisper and one of them called her a _capitalist_. At home, if someone insulted her, she generally avoided the person, but here she felt the conversation meant something else. She lowered her head. "I don't want to interfere with your local politics."

Antonio's face was red, but he stepped away and led her into a market street where people were buying from shops on a cobblestone street. "I think you being an American will increase my standing in our local politics—but don't worry about it. What would you like to do or see next?"

If she was with Renee, they'd dash into the quaint shops to see what treasures were to be discovered. With Antonio, she wished they were locked in a room together. She wanted to intimately know all of him. But suddenly, she was unsure what to say so she patted her stomach. "Okay, I'd rather worry about lunch. I'm famished."

"This way then." He led her into a small restaurant. "This is Jaka's. Don't be shocked but we put dandelion in our salads here."

That didn't sound very extreme, but comfortingly familiar.

He opened the door for her. "And perhaps you'll want to try something with chestnuts too."

Fruits and berries would be staples of the past. Somehow she had to turn the conversation to their marriage in the here and now. It was time she took a chance—starting with something new for lunch.

# Chapter 8

Kristin placed her blue cloth napkin on the table and smiled at the waitress who took away the empty dessert plate. Antonio had been attentive and sweet the entire meal. Through salad, pasta and chocolate cake—now she was hungry for more than food.

She ignored the buzz in her veins that begged for alone time where he might kiss her. The problem with a restaurant was they were in public and people stared at both of them. "I'm surprised no one is asking for your autograph or trying to get a picture with you."

The server came to refill their waters. "The village is quite used to me at this point and my people respect my privacy as I respect theirs. Being royal is around-the-clock lifestyle, but then Jaka, the owner, of this restaurant also has around the clock responsibilities."

Antonio stopped the server and asked, "Before you go, do you like working here?"

The waitress kept her head down but nodded at the same time. "Your Highness, Jaka has trained me in service, paying me so that I can support my family in the village. We are all voting for you to continue your reign." She held the water pitcher tight in her hands. "Under the communist regime, I was stuck in the countryside, unable to support myself or my family on the allotted land no matter how hard I worked."

Antonio nodded and gave her that royal smile of his that included that dimple. "Please send Jaka our regards."

The food had been a mix of Italian-ish spices, and some new to her palate. She picked up her glass and folded her other hand over her knee so she wouldn't touch Antonio. "Yes. Lunch was great."

He paid the bill. She gulped her water. Once he was done, he stood and offered his hand. "I want to show you something."

"Okay. Let's go." She jumped out of her seat to follow, and quickly walked beside him again. His hand in hers felt right. Every part of her body urged her to say yes and marry him. Renee was right in that she shouldn't doubt herself. She'd lose the chance of a lifetime, but more important, she had to listen to her heart.

Over the last three months she'd studied up on Antonio and she'd slowly fallen for his smiles, his charity work, his philosophy. Now she saw how kind he truly was in person. Perhaps her crush on him was transforming to something more.

He guided her to the village retaining wall and then down a dirt path that went toward a stand of oak trees. "The village was charming."

"It is home..."

The farther away from the village, the bustling town center was replaced with birds chirping in the trees. She squeezed his hand. "Where are we going?"

He pointed past a tree, not that she could see anything. "A spot I have claimed as my own since we moved here."

Her eyes widened. "How long ago was that?"

"Well it's over ten years now, since my father was brought back as the king." He jetted them off in a new direction that seemed untouched.

Her feet crunched into the grass as they went off the path. She stayed close to him as they walked into the darker forest. "That sounds interesting."

He held back a branch for her to pass by. "I think so. This way."

"This is the same wall that is part of the village?" She studied the white stone. They could probably have stayed on the path, but the shortcut through the woods made her more aware of him.

He pushed open a gate and led her to a massive oak door that he unlocked and then pocketed the key. "Yes. Centuries ago, we had guards stationed at various checkpoints in case there was an attack on our village."

He pushed open the wooden door that looked medieval, complete with iron brackets. "And now?"

"We have satellites and drones." He winked and went inside the dark room. She took a deep breath and thanked her lucky stars she'd trusted him enough to follow him into the woods—this place was living history. She followed him and blinked in the darkness. She heard the sound of a switch and then light illuminated from a central overhead chandelier. Clearly the people in Avce loved the light fixtures. The couch and living area all housed furniture she'd seen in museum showrooms.

Antonio said, "Anyhow, this is where the guard would have been stationed."

She stared at the rustic decor and the chunky, masculine furniture. The walls were clean and the hall had a scent of a hunting lodge, all dust and earth. "What is it used for now?"

He scooted two chairs together and dusted off the brown leather couch. "Right now, not much. When we give tours this might be a good place to start, but we don't have much of a tourist industry set up yet—my brothers are against this idea. They like having our own space, but I want to bring commerce to the town."

"It truly is beautiful." He straightened and she tilted her head. He'd taken off his tailored suit jacket before leaving the palace. His black slacks and polo shirt placed him in the wrong century for the guardhouse, and yet he still fit here. He was so tall that his brown hair nearly touched the chandelier. He truly was handsome and this felt secluded. "So, is this your favorite spot?"

He tugged her arm toward a door, which opened to a huge empty room that wasn't in use at all. He flipped on a light and said, "Almost. Come over here."

"Where are we?" She looked around the space.

"This is where the guards ate together, trained together. It's the old barracks, though there was a woman murdered right here over 200 years ago."

"What happened?" She peeked over her shoulder but saw no obvious ghost.

He stilled and looked around the room. "My great, great grandmother was murdered in this room by a man who was after her throne."

Perhaps the people wanted their freedom from tyranny and rules of kings. Her own father would never approve of the decadence. "What happened?"

Antonio crossed his arms and stared at the chandelier. "She was a widow and her son was less than five. A fortune hunter thought she was easy prey until she said no to his proposal. She came here for protection, but found all her guards dead from poison. Then when she fired her gun at the villain, he killed her."

She shook her head and backed out of the room. "At least her son was okay."

"He was well guarded in the palace." He closed the door to the grand hall and they returned to the large open space with the hunting lodge feel. "So, the communist rulers ignored this place, but my brothers and I loved being together here since we moved and lost our friends in England."

She noticed two other closed doors but avoided asking what the rooms were used for. She glanced at the two straight-backed chairs, an old brown couch and a large red armchair with thick cushions and a slightly sagging seat positioned in front of a large fireplace. She pressed her lips together and walked toward the couch. "Who gets the big chair?"

He laughed as she sat, then he joined her. "When I'm here by myself, I can read by the fire, though when my brothers come it's whoever gets here first that claims the _throne_."

He said throne like it was an in-family joke, though the red armchair had thick cushions and was probably comfortable. "It's nice."

He leaned backward on the couch and stretched his arm behind her. "This is also the only place I know where servants aren't watching me and I can really be alone."

She blinked and gazed into his eyes as her heart began to beat a little faster. "So no one will come in?"

He leaned forward and cupped her face in his hands. "No. All during lunch I was thinking of a place where I could do this."

His kiss left her body with tingles of anticipation. She wanted him, but he ended the moment too fast. She licked her lips. "What a good idea."

He let her go and folded his hands together. "How can I convince you to marry me?"

_Throw out the contract terms_. She blinked, not voicing those words, but she placed her hand on his arm and asked, "Why did you stop, you know, when we were kissing on the plane?"

He took a deep breath and held up two fingers. "Two things."

Her pulse quickened and she scooted closer to him. She'd been ready to make love on the flight. She tightened her grip around his arm. "Which are?"

His slightly calloused fingers brushed against her arm and left a trail of electric need in its path. He tugged her closer to him as if they were discussing something secret and forbidden. "Renee was downstairs, and when I make love to you, I don't want to be interrupted."

Ohh. True. Renee probably would have heard something. Though luxurious, it was still a plane. She hadn't even thought about it because she was too wrapped up in him. She nodded, "And two?"

He reached out and brushed her hair back from her face. "Two is that I don't want a one-night-stand with you. I asked you to marry me."

Now she'd had less than four boyfriends in her life, and none of them had left her with spine-tingling, must know more about him, sensations. All had been sweet but she couldn't remember a single name at this moment. Her body needed Antonio's touch. Her cheeks flushed. "It's sexy to be wanted, to know you want marriage, but I'd also like to know we're a match. Physically."

"Attraction is a good thing." He lowered his head.

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips out for a kiss.

He didn't disappoint. His touch sent awareness through every cell inside her. She ached for him. After a few minutes of intense kisses she climbed on top of his lap with her knees on either side of his hips, so she could be nose-to-nose with him, again. Her dress inched up her thighs, baring her skin.

Wind rustled branches outside, but inside she was warm and toasty in his arms. He rested his hands on her hips and once the kiss ended said, "Shall we get you out of your clothes?"

_Agreed._ She didn't have to say anything. Instead she stood, but he reached under her legs, swept her off her feet, and carried her into the other room.

She gazed at a full-size four poster bed with an emerald silk comforter, a nightstand and a dark wood dresser beneath a curtained window. In the next room, she spotted a gleaming white bathroom that seemed modern, not that she intended to check right now. This retreat of his was complete with everything. She hugged him closer.

Speechless at the hunger in his gaze, her breath caught as she stood before him so his eyes could undress her first.

He took off his shoes and polo. She toed off her flats. He wagged his finger for her to stay close. "Come here."

Her body was already his so it was time to show him her feelings too. She wrapped her arms around his waist, but then he said, "Take off your clothes...slowly."

In this moment she felt powerful. Sensual. Desired. She played with the hem of her dress, slowly revealing more leg, hip, stomach and breast as she pulled it over her head. Every cell in her body felt alive as she knew he watched her. His shortened breaths when he saw her in her black lace bra and panties made every second worth savoring.

He traced her skin and it felt like she was a flower about to bloom. He stared at her breasts and said, "Take that off. I want to see all of you."

"Likewise," she said and he tugged his slacks off and threw them in one perfect swift motion.

She unclasped her bra and her breasts stayed pert for his every attention.

He stroked her nipples. His touch was at first light but became firm. She studied his body, muscles all over, her breasts heavy with need. "Look at me," he insisted.

She stared into his eyes, brown with flecks of green. The sensation of being his and enjoying every second coursed through her veins. "Take me, Antonio."

He kissed her neck and she backed up toward the bed, her legs bumping the mattress. She put her arms around his shoulders and felt his hands on her hips, and knew without a doubt she'd say yes. _I will marry you._

# Chapter 9

Antonio held Kristin close to his bare chest, their bodies cooling after intense love play. He'd brought her to the guardhouse to share his past, to convince her with words to be his wife. But their physical attraction had overcome conversation.

Antonio's body still felt relaxed. Everything about Kristin was better than he'd expected. Before he met her, he had read her personality profile at least a hundred times while he avoided looking at her picture too much. He had her entire life history in his computer files to gather everything he could about her. He had trusted his logic skills far more than physical, and he'd dismissed caring as an essential component to his would-be wife.

He had gathered files on about ten women who might match before he used his last demand, her physical looks, to truly decide. His brother Lucio had been the opposite and claimed he needed to have a physical connection if he must be married.

Kristin was the logical choice and even more so now that he understood they could be like this. Her naked body next to his sent embers of desire through him, even after what they'd just shared.

Reluctantly, he sat up and tugged on his pants. "We should probably head back to the palace."

"Yes, Antonio." Kristin slipped out of the bed.

She walked to the modern bathroom attached to the room to get ready. They had already washed and cleaned off, but the dawn of evening meant they could dawdle, and holding her in his arms was more pleasant than he expected. Now that she wasn't in his arms as he tucked in his shirt, he already felt a loss. He lifted his eyebrow. "Kristin?"

"Yes?" She tied her sneakers, then flipped her hair over her shoulder to glance at him.

She truly glowed. His heart whispered that he wanted no other bride. He slipped his black shoes on as he felt a genuine smile grow on his lips. "You seem happier."

"I am." She winked at him and checked herself in the bathroom mirror so that her clothes were all straight.

He joined her by the mirror and took her hand in his, acknowledging the spark he'd felt with no other. "Good. Want to give a hint on what I must do to get you to marry me now?"

She looked up at him with her face still flushed from their afternoon. Her smile was hypnotic. "Ask me."

"What?" He blinked. Had he heard her correctly? He swallowed and tried not to move.

Her voice grew softer. "Ask me right now."

He went down on one knee on the bathroom floor. She swayed and stared at him with wide blue eyes. She was the best thing that ever happened in his life, and his chest puffed with pride. "Kristin Wells, will you marry me?"

She nodded with her eyes misting and tugged for him to stand. The moment he did, she threw her arms around him and said, "Yes."

"Really?" He hugged her waist, lifting her off the ground. Kristin was his now and for the rest of their lives.

She brushed his jaw and laughed. "Why do you sound surprised? I couldn't say no."

He put her back on the ground, but his heart still beat faster than normal. "I haven't been able to think straight since you spilled your pocketbook in my office. You bent over and I saw the sliver of delicate skin at your throat, the way you blinked behind your glasses, the peek of thigh when you crossed your legs and your dress inched up. Another woman might have run from embarrassment but you held your own and captured my admiration. I had to choose you."

She tilted her head and somehow she made him feel alive in a way he never had been. "If being with you is like this, then we should be married."

He brushed her hair away from her soft face and inhaled her rosy scent though she wore no perfume and then lowered his head for a kiss.

She tasted better than any other woman, like spice and wine and chocolate. Somehow he'd found the woman that men whispered about as special. Their fingers interlaced and they walked to the door that he held open for her. "We'll stop at the local jeweler, if you'd like, and you can pick out your ring. I'm sure my mother mentioned some ancient ring I'm to give you once we tell her over dinner."

Outside she shivered as if she was colder in the evening here, even though it was summer, and stayed closer to him. "I'd like one that you bought for me as something private between us."

They walked without speaking as their feet crunched against the overgrown grass until they made it back to the dirt path and then the cobblestone street. He held her close and wanted to ensure they stayed in this bubble where no one else mattered but the two of them. "Kristin, I really didn't think you'd be this perfect."

Her laughter echoed on the quiet streets of the village. Where was everybody? Even at night the village always had streets full of people, often reveling as they went to one of the restaurants or late-night bars. Strange that everyone was inside and no one was here. His body became more rigid and his awareness of the surroundings grew.

Kristin kept her voice low. "Does your kingdom have a curfew, at dusk?"

So she felt it too. Something was wrong. Everything was too quiet. His hands went into fists from the quietness of the street that usually had vendors everywhere. "Crime is usually imported. We're a small country. It can happen anywhere. But I have a feeling this is about my family."

Night was almost here, but at least the jewelry store had its lights on. He opened the door and heard the bell ding overhead as the only noise in the area. His gut churned and he ushered Kristin inside and off the street. "Shall we?"

The elderly store owner, David, had tears dampening his face when he came over to them and cried even more. Antonio's entire body felt tight.

The old man mopped his eyes. "Your Highness, Prince Antonio, we were so worried about you."

"Why?" He heard the edge in his voice. Everything had been fine this afternoon. If something happened to his father now, he'd feel guilty for stealing away for a few hours. Kristin squeezed his hand. "What's wrong?"

The jeweler then cried more. "We heard what happened at the palace. The reports must have been wrong."

No. Something happened. He said a prayer his father was safe. "What reports?"

The older gentleman leaned against the glass counter that protected his jewels. "Communists stormed the palace and have your family as hostages. We're all waiting for news."

No. His father had just woken from a coma! He couldn't be moved, or startled, or he might relapse. Antonio never should have left the palace. His entire body tensed. "I have to get back now."

"I'm coming with you." Kristin held his hand in her tight grip.

He thought to argue, but remembered that her protective instinct was at a 97 percentile which wouldn't let her back down.

The jeweler locked the door behind them, and Antonio, with Kristin, marched up the street toward the palace. She ran with him and never asked to slow down. As they neared the gate, he told her, trying again to keep her safe, "I'll need you to stay with the guards."

She wrapped her other arm in his. "Antonio, my friend is in there. I'm helping."

The last thing he needed was for anyone to hurt her too. Kristin was his future. "It's my family, Kristin. My father is gravely ill. I can't worry about you too." She didn't have a chance to respond because the doors were opened for him in the barracks and he called out, "Guards."

"Your Highness, this way." A lieutenant saluted and then marched forward.

Everyone stood at attention as he strode down the hall. Once he made it to General Babik the man said, "We're happy you're here." His neutral expression gave no emotion away.

The general marched him to a wall of monitors where he saw the elite force mobilized near doors and various rooms in the house. Babik hit a switch and one monitor became his father's sick room. At least his father was still alive and in his bed, but who knew what was planned.

Babik said, "From the video feed, someone has tied your mother to her chair and your father is too weak to move."

The enemy was in the room with his parents, but he had no idea where his brother or Renee were. Lucio was out of the country. Babik turned to him, his hands behind his back. "We have a plan."

Antonio read the three-phase army plan to extract his parents and his brother in two different missions at the same time, which meant Marco wasn't with his parents. The guards were in position. His heart beat fast as he asked, "Where are Marco and Renee?"

"Here." The general motioned to another monitor. "They are tied together. We have to move now, sire, if we have any chance of catching them before they secure the palace and cut off our entry points. We were desperately trying to locate you."

"They are in bed." Kristin pointed to the screen and it brought him back. That someone would hurt his family made his blood boil. His father was a good man and always did what he thought was best for his small kingdom. He'd let the black hole that wanted to consume him get him later.

"We found ten traitors within the castle. Our men are stationed near four entry points where they can be apprehended. The enemy is trying to secure the doors." The general added, "There are only two traitors with your brother. The other six are closer to your parents. Two more are with Sophia."

The plan called for three major groups to be stationed in unsecured locations and three minor groups to block any escape attempts. He had read fast and approved. "How many guards do we have?"

Babik stood at attention. "You have a thousand men mobilized and armed already."

He pointed to the monitor. "I want a hundred extra men dispatched to free my brother and Renee, our guest. Send another hundred to get my mom's guest, Sophia. Then I want a hundred marching with me to my parents after the Special Forces unit goes in. The doctors specifically said no stress on my father so quiet is the best option if possible. Have the rest mobilized and ready to charge into the communist headquarters near the library once I enter the palace." He glanced at Kristin. This was his family, and she was now included in this mess. He then told Babik, "I am going to meet these communists, now."

Babik made the call. Special Forces were headed toward his father's sickroom. He turned on his heel and marched out of the barracks. Outside the general would have men follow him, but Antonio had to see his father for himself.

Near the door, he turned to Kristin. "This is political. Please stay here."

She walked ahead of him and tugged on his arm. "If I'm to be your wife then I should be with you. What you stand for, I represent the same thing."

He knew he'd not talk her out of this. He trusted his closest military guards were loyal to him, but no one knew she was to be his bride, not yet. He followed the general, Kristin at his side. "No, you're American to them. I'll need you surrounded with guards."

"Good." She nodded and walked with him down the hall with guards flanking them on all sides.

They stopped outside his parent's room and he heard men speaking tersely. Neither of them said anything else as they waited.

The general wore a green on green uniform and stood alert and ready. Babik spoke into the mic at his lapel, which reverberated in the headset Antonio had gotten at the barracks so they could communicate. "They are planning to kill your family and throw the country back to a point where most of us went without basic supplies. Stay where you are until we secure the king and queen."

He was one door away from his mother. Part of him wanted to run inside, but it was smarter to move with the army at his command. He tapped his chest and nodded to Babik, speaking into his own mic. "Send in the storm."

"What's the storm?" Kristin stood stiffly beside him.

Babik sent the signal.

Glass shattered and shots were heard. He wanted to throw open the doors and pull his parents to safety. Anything might happen, but his father's lessons about how a future king must always be prepared forced him to hold still despite how the little boy inside him begged to save his mother. "The men in the military are equipped to remove my parents from harm while we wait."

"Got it." Kristin's face paled. More shouts of the military but one shout of "no" reverberated in the air.

Anyone looking at him would see a cool, composed prince of the realm. He didn't allow a single muscle on his body to tremble. He swallowed as the rumbling noises behind the door quieted. "Kristin, my dad is ill and this stress can be bad for him. He could relapse or worse. He doesn't need this."

She curled her hand in his. "He'll be okay."

Silence echoed through the hall of the west wing where his parent's private tower was located. He nodded at the men behind him. Babik waited by the door, and went in the room first, then Antonio and Kristin. The moment he entered his gaze locked on his mother, Queen Anna Camilla Aussa. She sat on the bed with his father and nodded at him, tears of joy in her eyes.

He wanted to run over and hug them both grateful they were alive. Instead he asked the guard, "Report."

The leader of the Special Forces unit pointed toward the group that was tied on the ground near the servant's door. "We have the suspects. One of them began to touch your father's IV but a nurse struggled with him and prevented any poisons until we fired our shots. The nurses are checking everything thoroughly now."

Fire raged through him. If anyone hurt his father, he'd bring back public executions with an axe. Kristin's hand in his was the only calming influence. He was known as the cold one in the family, but right now he was furious. He gave a single nod. "I'll speak to them."

"Over here." The guard walked him the two feet and stared at the two young men who couldn't be more than eighteen years old. He had never seen either of them until now so they were probably foreign born.

He damned the men who dared to harm his family. He let go of Kristin's hand and crossed his arms, his head high in the air. "Who are the cowards that tried to assassinate a king when he was sick?"

One of the blond, blue-eyed boys answered, "You were supposed to be in the castle too."

A guard handed him the man's driver's license which had his identification on it. Antonio knelt down to stare into the man's eyes. "You're the leader here, Mikel?"

Mikel snorted. "You betrayed us all when you brought an American home."

If he wasn't the prince, he'd have murdered the man with his own hands. Instead he stayed still, though his hands curled into fists. "You went after a sick old man. Your heartless attack destroys any chance at martyrdom among the people." He then addressed the guard. "Get them out of my sight. Put them in Iron Seven."

"Is that the dungeon?" Kristin asked.

No, that was barbaric. "Iron Seven is a prison."

Once he turned, he saw that Kristin hugged her waist and stared at him. He returned to her side, kissed her forehead and placed his hand on the small of her back. She dropped her hands and went with him as he urged her forward. His mother stood to greet him. He spoke formally. "Kristin Wells, this is my mother, Queen Anna Camilla, and my father, King Leopoldo, Regents of Avce."

"Nice to meet you," Kristin answered shyly.

His mother kissed her cheek and then hugged him. The world was right. He had everyone he ever wanted and there was no way he'd lose them. Not now or ever.

# Chapter 10

Kristin held her tongue. She had no idea what to say in Antonio's family discussion because she didn't know any of them. So she stuck to his side and waited, listening. The room had probably been white and sterile, but the walls were now stained with bullet holes and the air smelled of gunpowder. Her eyes burned but the closer she came to the king in his white sheets, the more she realized that he was untouched.

Antonio's shoulders were square, but she could tell he wanted to hug them all again. Yes, she might be reading into his body language, but his shoulders caved in and then straightened too many times to mean anything else. He crossed his arms as if to stop himself from showing emotion. "Mother. Father. I—I'm sorry that I wasn't here."

"You led our rescue." His mother reached out and pressed her hand on his cheek. "We're glad you weren't here."

His father, the king, settled back and closed his eyes as if to rest, more peaceful. Kristin fixed his blanket so he'd be covered to his thin shoulders.

Antonio glanced down and spoke to his mother. "Only because I wasn't home."

His mother reached out and took her hand as well. "As I said, we're glad you weren't. I hope you and Kristin had a good time exploring the kingdom."

Antonio waited for her to stand next to him. The moment she did, he placed his hand on her hip and stared at his mother. "Mother, Kristin's agreed to marry me."

The queen smiled at them both. "Perfect."

Kristin's entire body had tensed, expecting another reaction. She swallowed and said, "Really? Those men came in to kill you. They said I was American. Is there a revolution happening here?"

"The men were not our citizens." Antonio answered fast.

His mother shrugged and then motioned for one of the nurses to come in to check on the king. She watched the nurse like a hawk though she said in a bright tone, "Tonight, we will have the official announcement of your engagement made. Have you selected one of the dresses I left for you yet?"

"No." Kristin hadn't even thought about clothes or dinner. Adrenaline rushed into her veins from the danger that had just happened. Clothes seemed banal. "I haven't gone back to my room."

The queen turned toward Kristin as if this was the most important thing to do. "I need you to select one immediately and tell the servant I've assigned to your chamber. She'll inform me of your choice."

Antonio made to leave, but Kristin pressed her heels together. "Wait."

Antonio paused. "For what?"

Clothes were the least important thing, to Kristin's mind. Her heart still beat wildly. "Ten men just stormed the castle. You're still going to have a formal dinner?"

None of this made sense. Shouldn't they be worried about more insurrection and danger and what to do about it?

Queen Anna Camilla said, "One must keep up appearances for the people. We have a very important election at stake."

Antonio interjected, "Clearly they had help from someone inside, Mother."

His mother nodded. "Korba was one of them. You saw him on the ground."

"Who is Korba?" Kristin asked.

Antonio's face went white. "No. Korba was _not_ on the ground." He turned toward her and said, "Korba is-was a trusted servant of my mother's."

This conversation was important. She held her breath as the queen explained, "Korba let them in and locked the staff out. Please have Marco and Sophia check in with me. I want to see my son."

"Of course." Antonio hugged her goodbye, then placed his hand on Kristin's back and led her toward the door. "Mother, I know the guards are here, but stay vigilant until Korba is found."

Queen Anna Camilla sat down next to the king on the bed who roused briefly from his slumber and smiled at his wife. "Yes, of course," she said. "Order will be maintained and your bride must look angelic for tonight's live feed. Have the guards check everyone before they enter her room, but hair, makeup, everything must be in order. We only have a few hours."

So, Kristin had marching orders, or so it felt. Perhaps when things were less frazzled, they'd have a conversation where they could get to know each other. If she intended to live here, she'd need the queen to be an ally, if not a friend.

She followed Antonio's silent directions and left. This time he walked her out, closed the door and closed his eyes in the hall. She stood next to him and massaged his shoulder, unsure how to help. His family might still be in danger.

He hugged her and she stayed in his arms.

Minutes passed and neither of them moved until the grandfather clock dinged in the hall. He let her go and led her toward a stairwell. She looked around and had no idea where they were. "Can you take me to my room? I'm afraid I'd get lost if I tried to find my way."

"Sure. Then I'll go find my brother." He guided her down a flight of stairs. "This is the short cut."

She couldn't imagine a longer way. The halls were all enormous enough to house a giant party. They passed a huge grand piano and the crystal and gold chandeliers more than made up for missing art. He stopped right before the gilded door of her room. She knew this was it, for now. She tugged on his hip to keep him close, but she also wanted to talk to her friend who had been with his brother this afternoon. "I want to check on Renee and it seems hair and makeup will be there for me."

He traced her cheek and smiled. "You'll have to look the part of princess for a while. I'm so glad you're here."

His touch reminded her of why she'd said yes to his proposal. She hugged him. "Then it's worth it."

Once she let go, he claimed her lips and for that second the rest of the world dissipated. All that mattered was that she was in his arms. "Hurry back to me, Antonio." She brushed the five o'clock shadow along his jaw with gentle fingers and let the fullness she felt settle inside her heart. Renee would say that Antonio was a keeper. Her friend loved her slang.

She turned to go into her room, but he caught her shoulder. "I am sorry I never bought you a ring."

_Seriously?_ It wasn't a big deal. His family mattered more. She shrugged. "Don't worry. Go find your brother and make sure he's okay."

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Kristin, I will come to you later to escort you to dinner."

Her cheek tingled where his mouth had touched as he stepped away. She couldn't do anything but smile at him. For some reason, Prince Antonio Aussa wanted to marry her, Kristin Wells. Her heart beat grew faster. "I look forward to it."

Guards walked down the hall in double file. They slowed when the commander of the group realized they both watched. His hand lingered on hers for a moment and slowly walked toward the troops. She slipped inside and closed the door to her room.

Two full closets on wheels, like something a bell hop might bring to a hotel room, held dozens of dresses. She traced the soft fabrics with her hand and never imagined owning half of this, but then the side door opened and Renee came inside. Kristin dropped everything and rushed across the hall to hug her friend.

"Renee, how are you?" She let her go and searched her friend for signs of torture or captivity. Her wrists and ankles seemed fine, but she'd been tied up, a hostage, and sleeping with Marco.

Renee looked at her best friend with tears in her eyes and said, "You were so lucky you weren't in the palace when this happened. Where is Sophia?"

"Who?" Kristin had a vague memory of Antonio and General Babik discussing a woman with that name.

Renee made sure the door behind Kristin was closed and they were alone. Kristin's adrenaline built up as Renee confided, "I met her when you went to lunch. Did Antonio not mention her?"

Her name hadn't come up in conversation exactly. She'd overheard it. She shrugged. "She must be a nice older lady then. I know Antonio sent troops to retrieve her."

Renee shook her head. "She's not old. She's a beautiful woman. You know the queen wants Antonio to marry, quickly."

"I said yes." Kristin hugged her waist, nervous. Queen Anna Camilla had shaken her hand and said she was good with Antonio marrying her. Was Sophia a backup plan? She'd have to ask Antonio for details, later.

Renee began to search the dresses on the rack for something to wear as well—both ladies wore the same size. "Well, Sophia made it clear that she wanted to marry Antonio."

"She said that?" Kristin took Renee's hand off the blue silk sheath, demanding her best friend's attention.

Renee tilted her head in thought. "No. She said a Prince Aussa, but not exactly your Antonio." Renee lifted a green floor-length gown from the selection. "What do you think?"

Kristin wrinkled her nose at the dress. Something else was going on—Renee never avoided gossip. Kristin crossed her arms and tried to understand. Perhaps this was to do with sleeping with Antonio's brother? "Maybe your date this afternoon then. You never told me how it was with Marco?"

Renee's face flushed crimson. "How it was? How did you know?"

"Know what?" Kristin asked and stayed close as her friend tried to check out the dresses again.

"Nothing." Renee continued to flip through the choices.

Kristin didn't even look at the clothes, but zeroed in on Renee. "You're bright red. Did you have a good time? Antonio said Marco was going to show you the countryside."

"So the rebels came at the wrong moment." Renee bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. "We were naked. In bed."

All the blood drained from Kristin's face as she felt cold and her skin was clammy. "Those horrible men stripped you?" Renee deserved so much better. She covered her lips with her hand.

Renee's blush reached her forehead, and down her throat. "No, we were taken prisoner the way they found us."

Found in bed with Marco. "You and Marco?" Renee never had one night stands, ever. In fact she avoided any encounter that might lead to the situation. She never drank in public. She always had Kristin call at eleven o'clock on any date and pretend there was an emergency at home. On the plane to Avce, she'd admitted to feelings about their neighbor. Kristin narrowed her gaze. "But I thought you were in love with Greg?"

Renee dropped her hands to her sides. "A man who doesn't notice me? That's nothing to love." She twirled away from the dresses and leaned against the four poster bed. "Marco is sexy, not looking to put a ring on anyone's finger and oh yeah, a prince. He's hard to say no to, when he's exactly what I want. Anyhow, let's not talk about this. I am so glad that you agreed to marry Antonio. Did he give you a ring?"

"We were going to shop for one when we found out you'd been taken hostage." Kristin had so many questions for Renee. Sleeping with Marco was so unlike her. She was usually so responsible and never did anything outside of the lines.

Renee then stared at her with renewed interest. "And you were gone most of the day. Longer than just lunch in the village."

Kristin felt her cheeks heat and this time she checked the dresses to avoid Renee's curiosity. "Antonio and I came to an understanding."

Renee took her hand and started to laugh. "You mean he took you to bed. Was he amazing, like his brother?"

A giggle escaped her lips and she squealed a little. It was nice to share secrets with her friend. "So I said yes and now I'm to tell the queen what dress I will choose."

"Tell the queen? Are you sure you are up to living this life?"

The palace attack was unlikely to happen again, and security would be tightened. She'd witnessed the army and guards first-hand. It had thrilled her to see that Antonio had the respect of the general.

"In Miami, the police are everywhere—we don't even think about it. I expect I'll be fine, probably because they are around. The guards were already drawing up plans to rescue everyone when we came into the palace."

Renee hugged her. "You are braver than anyone else I know, Kristin. I don't often say that but you might need strength tonight, at dinner. I'll be there, but you're on a whole other level. Oh, and wear the red one. We both know that color looks great on you."

"Renee, I'm glad you came," Kristin said as someone knocked on the door. "Even if you did get tied up."

Renee answered, "Me too."

Women came in with hair supplies and makeup boxes. They set up in chairs near the huge mirror on the wall. Kristin would dress fabulous and look the part of future princess. She was worthy of Antonio and tonight they'd tell the world that they were engaged.

# Chapter 11

The red fabric hugged Kristin's waist. The silk felt smooth and showed her breasts in the sleeveless floor length dress but everything clung in all the right places while still giving her a sense of modesty. A knock sounded on the chamber door. She checked herself in the mirror one more time. Would Antonio like it?

Was it Antonio? It was time for him to arrive. Surely he'd walk right in. Minutes passed and she had no idea what to do. She stared at the door and wondered if a servant might escort her to dinner like they had for Renee, ten minutes ago.

Suddenly another knock sounded. For some reason Antonio hadn't kept his word to come and get her. She opened the door. A dark-haired man in a blue and gold uniform stood close to her. "The prince has asked that you come this way, Ms. Wells."

All the servants she'd seen in the quarter so far were women. Her skin prickled as she slipped outside and closed the door behind her. No guard waited in the hall, as instructed by Antonio earlier. "I've not seen you before."

"I work in service of her highness, Queen Anna Camilla."

The man walked beside her a few steps. Kristin remembered how the maid had insisted she be in front of her and Renee earlier, as if that was proper protocol.

Her stomach churned, indicating that something was wrong. She slowed her step and asked, "What's your name?"

"Korba, Ms. Wells." He directed her farther down the hall.

Her ears burned as she jumped toward the next door in the hall. "I almost forgot. Renee has my earrings. I'm going to slip into my friend's room. Please wait out here."

She went in, then locked the door before he could say a word. Her heart raced. Antonio and his mother were looking for a Korba. She raced to the balcony and then her room. Antonio said he'd be here. She locked the balcony door and her front door.

Antonio said he'd come. She hugged her waist and massaged the goosebumps off her arms. She called out to the green and white walls, "Where are you?"

She went to her pocketbook and found her cell phone. Of course service was unavailable within the palace. She dropped it back in her bag, but then immediately grabbed it again. Perhaps she had Wi-Fi.

She quickly pulled up the email used for her appointment with Antonio and sent him a message. Next, she sent one to Renee. She paced the room, hoping they'd check their messages before the dinner. Would Korba try to break in?

Within moments, she heard footsteps and guards walk in loud formation outside in the hall. They stopped in front of her chamber. The key turned the lock and she stood, stiff and unsure.

She saw the black leather of a shoe and immediately knew who it was. She rushed over and threw herself in Antonio's arms despite the gold-encrusted Prince suit that reminded her a bit of an animated prince from the movies. "Antonio!"

He hugged her, then kissed her fast. She felt protected in his arms. "I got your message. Are you okay? There's nobody out in the hall."

Her heart still raced, but she closed her eyes and remembered how close she'd been to following the man behind the hostage attacks to who knows where. She rocked on her feet. "Korba came to get me. I locked myself in."

He massaged her shoulders. "Where were the guards?"

Good question. She swayed, but balanced against his arm. "I don't know."

"I'll find out." He held her until she calmed. Then he offered his hand and motioned with his head toward the door. "This way."

She stared at the two men now stationed in the hall. She wished she remembered the faces of the ones from earlier, but her memory was a blur. "Don't you want to call the guards over and ask?"

He shook his head and led her away. Once they were in the next hall, he whispered so only she heard him. "I trust Babik, but I think another general is in league with Korba. Let's get you with the rest of my family. You'll be safe."

"Why didn't you come earlier as you promised?" The question came out of her lips before she had a chance to think. Her face felt hot, but she stared ahead.

He took a deep breath and then put her hand on his heart. "You're right. I promised I would. Then nothing might have happened to my gorgeous fiancée. My mother had me go find her guest and then I had to bring her to my mother who then never stopped talking to me. I should have left them earlier and come straight here."

"If you had then maybe I'd have fallowed Korba without questioning. So I'm glad you came now." She unlaced her fingers off his chest and pressed her lips together. Renee had said Sophia was beautiful. She swallowed. "Who is Sophia?"

He reached out and took her arm to direct her to the door. "No one important and now is not the time for her. Let's go find Babik and then go to dinner."

She tugged her hand back and stood taller. Sophia must be important—Kristin had to know so she crossed her arms. "Who is she?"

Antonio's jaw clenched and he closed the door he had slightly opened, speaking just to her. "Someone my mother has been throwing in my path since I was thirteen. We don't fit."

If his mother wanted this woman not only as Antonio's wife, but princess, and someday queen, she had to be more than just acceptable. The last thing she wanted to be was surprised or jealous at dinner. She dropped her arms to the side, but her foot tapped the plush carpet that ran in the hall to protect the hard wood underneath. "Why not?"

Antonio puffed out his decorated with metals chest when he took a deep breath. "Honestly, she's more like a sister and I'm not attracted to her in the slightest."

Her shoulders dropped with relief—she hadn't known she was so stiff. She lowered her head. "So I shouldn't be jealous?"

His shoes came into her view and she glanced at him. "Absolutely not."

A second later, he lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered closed and her lips puckered. Then his descended upon hers and she kissed him.

With him, she had everything.

The moment he ended the kiss, he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. "I wish we could skip dinner and be alone."

She hugged him and then straightened his tie. "We promised your mother. Other than beefing up palace security, I'm happy to stay. With you."

He nodded and walked with her through the palace, though as more and more military people were stationed, she understood this was the guard's quarters. Antonio's hand laced with hers. "General Babik!"

"Your Highness!" The general stopped mid-step and asked, "How may I help you, Sire?"

"The guards were missing for a time, near my fiancée's door. Korba tried to get her to go with him."

Babik's face went white. "The captain of the guards will be placed under review. I will find out what happened."

"Good."

Kristin tightened her hold on Antonio's arm, feeling a cold stare. She discretely looked around, but it wasn't anyone near her. All the guards had their eyes respectfully averted.

"I'll report the moment I know something. I suggest you go to dinner, Your Highness. Your mother has cameras ready," Babik said.

Antonio stood, poised for a fight, if needed. "I want men loyal to you to guard my family, including Kristin."

Babik said, "Absolutely."

Kristin still felt someone watching her. Goosebumps grew on her arm as Babik said, "We will find out who in the army cannot be trusted."

Antonio closed the circle between the three of them. He tapped Babik on the arm. "Good man. We know Korba is in the palace. I want him found."

Babik's gaze softened as he looked at her for a moment. Did he resent that she, an American, would marry the prince? "Korba's sister who works in the laundry might be the link. I will let you know."

She swallowed. "Babik, be careful. I feel like someone is watching me right now."

He looked around then nodded. "Of course, my princess."

"Not yet." Kristin felt a coldness inch up her spine. Until the danger was over, she had no idea what to do. Settling insurance claims hadn't prepared her for this.

Antonio led her out of the military barracks and back into the main palace. They walked down a hallway with gilded frames and she started to feel better. Surely nobody would be out to get her in front of a bunch of cameras. Warmth returned to her face. "So, we're off to dinner?"

"In a second." He stopped her.

She felt the cold metallic phone in her hand and asked though she knew the answer, "What's this?"

"It's not the ring I promised. I've not had time to go and get one."

"Understandable!" She smiled at him. "There was no need."

In her room, she'd felt his body near hers and her hands had grazed his suit. She had no memory of touching a phone. He'd been all muscles and soft wool. "So where did you get this?"

He crossed his arms. "I took this when you spoke to Babik, on our way out of the barracks." He took it back and then programed the phone. "I'll upgrade the phone tomorrow, but I'm the first number on speed dial. I'd have come to you faster if you called, but you were smart to email me."

She took the phone back and held it to her chest. "Sounds perfect. This was the first time in my life without a working number." Then she shook out her red dress and headed into the hallway. She offered her arm and asked, "Dinner?"

"Let's." He took her arm. They walked together and saw the moonlight through the huge windows and then they heard the chatter of people outside on a patio.

Antonio brought her into a dining hall that could easily sit fifty people at the long table, though for this occasion it was six white and gold settings near the door with Queen Anna Camilla at the head. Marco and Renee sat on the left next to a beautiful blonde with her hair designed in an up-do that would take hours. The blonde must be Sophia, who sat next to the queen.

The other side was untouched and must be for her and Antonio.

Antonio let her hand go and hugged his mother.

Renee looked at her with concern. "Marco insisted I stay here when I saw your message, he said that you were safe with Antonio."

"We're okay." Kristin used the top edge of the seat near her to hold on and stay steady. She wasn't sure why but the room felt icy in here too.

The queen then said, "You're courageous." She lifted her chin and stared right at her. "It must be one of the things my son finds attractive in you. You look good in red, it complements your pale skin."

Kristin was probably overreacting. She glanced around the room, but saw no danger. The queen was polite and courteous. She bowed her head and let go of the chair. "Thanks. I went through a lot of the dresses you sent to find something I liked that still maintained a modest cut."

The queen then shrugged and shook out the flawless green chiffon skirt of her gown. Once she was done, she said, "It's teasing the public, but we must announce your wedding to the cameras outside on the patio first. I've planned the ceremony for three days from now. Son, where is your grandmother's ring?"

Three days was fast. Antonio blushed and seemed taken aback. "I don't have it."

"I have it, Your Highness." The other woman in the room said and took it off her finger.

Kristin held her breath and stared at Sophia. She had blonde ringlets in her hair, and cool blue eyes. The small woman must be a foot shorter than her, but she handed the ring to Antonio as he said, "Sophia?"

Something inside Kristin gnawed at her.

"Antonio," Sophia said. "I'm happy the computer led you to someone who has made you so happy."

"Computer?" Kristin asked out loud.

Sophia tried to give her the ring. "The world-wide search for a bride he conducted." Kristin refused to take it and Sophia placed the ring in Antonio's palm. "Through IT? Your mother handed me the ring to try on months ago and I forgot about it until tonight. I tried to see you earlier, Antonio, to give it back, but, well, we were taken hostage. I am thrilled for you."

Antonio found her from her job application, not the equivalent of royal match.com. She tapped her fingers on her arm and demanded his gaze. "What world-wide search, run by IT? Was it my application that brought you to Miami or something else?"

Antonio's cheeks turned slightly red and he looked down to avoid her gaze. "The application was further screening." Her heart skipped a beat, but he looked at her with those flecks of green that made his brown eyes seem brilliant. "I had a month to find a bride and it seemed the fastest way to shift through data."

The hard facts made her accept that that love, or the beginning seeds of love, had never truly existed. Hadn't he said so in the contract? She should have known better and protected her heart. She stepped back and shook her head. "I said I'd marry you because I felt something, not because..." Maybe she had said yes so fast because he was a prince. Either way she thought he might grow to love her, but he hadn't told her everything. She lifted her chin. "Of all this. Antonio, you didn't tell me."

"I have less than two weeks until I must marry. What happened after we met has all been real."

She slipped out of his hands and covered her lips. "Was it? How can it be when I was targeted by a computer program? I was a stupid fool to believe there might be more."

She turned to leave.

Antonio called out, "Kristin, wait."

However, whatever else he said faded as the door closed behind her. She needed to get her head on straight and she ran down the hall. Alone. Romantic love wasn't real. She had always known that so she shouldn't feel this bile grow inside her that made her bitter and sad. She should have been armed and protected herself from this sense of loss. Her mother had been right all along.

# Chapter 12

Kristin's entire body was stiff with hurt pride and her muscles banded together. The contract should have been enough of a signal to keep her heart safe. She glanced around the hallway, unsure where she was and her heart beat grew faster and faster. This was the cost of taking a risk. Allowing herself to believe in something more.

She increased her speed despite the red satin heels, but she wasn't sure she was going in the right direction. The blue walls in the never-ending hallway, separated with oak doors that led to rooms she'd never been in, was making her dizzy.

Her skin felt dewy again, her hairs raised as if someone was close. She called out, "Whoever is there, go away."

A shadow stepped forward from behind a corner of the upcoming hall. She caught her breath.

"Princess."

Ice raced through her veins. She recognized the forty something year old man she had met earlier in the hall. "Korba, I'm not a princess."

He inched closer to her. Her spine became like a steel rod as he said, "You're an American, and the last thing we need in this country are your people to come and take us over."

Her heartbeat was so fast she feared a heart attack, but her years of self-defense classes reminded her to keep her knees apart and ready to kick. Her hands clenched into fists. "My people? I don't know the President. There will be no tanks coming in after me—I'm nobody. I want to go home."

He turned as if to walk with her down the hall, without a care in the world. "Then, I will drive you to the airport."

"You will?" Her voice was an octave higher. She coughed but the adrenaline still pumped in her veins. "That's it? You're not going to threaten me?"

He moved closer to her and invaded her space. "No. The prince must marry in two weeks. If you are gone, then we can proceed as planned and no one gets hurt."

The hair on her body stuck straight up. She put her hand out to create boundaries. "Proceed as planned? Just leave me alone. I can find my own ride. Your country must have a car service."

He grabbed her arm and tried to force her to go with him. "See, I can't do that. You have to disappear for two weeks, and that's exactly what we're going to do."

"You're hurting me." She squirmed her shoulder.

He squeezed her arm tighter. "Then come quietly."

"Not a chance." She stomped on his foot with her heel and then brought her leg up to knee him in his groin. The slit in her red dress allowed her easy movement.

"Ouch!" He let her go and covered his manhood. "Oww."

She refused to wait and see if he was okay. She ran. Once she was in the hallway she took off her pretty heels and continued to run faster. She heard no footsteps behind her.

Picking the first door, she ducked inside, then quietly closed it. Once she locked herself in a small dark closet devoid of clothes or anything at all, she ensured there was no other entryway by hitting the back wall. Safe. She dug the phone out of her bra and listened to her heart go fast as she said to herself, "Now let me call Antonio."

Someone banged on the door. Her hands shook. Antonio answered and she didn't wait for hello. "Korba is here. He tried to kidnap me."

"Be right there." Antonio's words were like steel that helped brace her against fear from the ramming of the oak door outside.

Then another man outside the door asked, "What's taking so long?" She didn't recognize the voice.

Instead of ramming, there was a jiggle at the knob. A second later the door of her closet opened and it was a young brown-haired soldier standing with Korba. She dropped the phone in her bra and made her hands into fists. The soldier tried to get her, but she kicked his leg, right at the knee cap. He shouted, "Ahh."

Korba shook his head and stood more in position to defend himself. "No one likes assault, Princess." Korba commanded the soldier toward Kristin. "Get her."

Footsteps marched in the hall. The soldier grabbed her shoulders and held her captive. The door swung open and this time Babik and two of his men pointed guns at them. "I command you to stop, Henri."

The strong boy holding her neck must be Henri. Antonio had sent a rescue. She stilled in that moment.

Korba then said, "Not a chance Babik."

She reached up and got her hand underneath his and used that as momentum to swing out of his grip. Henri wasn't expecting her move. "What the..."

Babik grabbed her and pulled her behind him. "Princess, come where you're safe."

More guards marched into the room and immediately controlled Henri and Korba, handcuffing both men, despite their vehement struggles. Babik walked with her away from the scene so she didn't see much else. As they went down another hallway, she couldn't stand the silence anymore. "They were trying to kidnap me and wanted Antonio to marry another."

Babik didn't blink. "Princess, it's best if I take you to your room. His Highness will meet you there, but on a personal note, I hope Prince Aussa marries you. You're fearless."

"That was adrenaline." She shook her head as her heart still beat wildly. The panic hadn't gone away. They neared her door and she massaged her forehead. "You can tell..." This political situation wasn't good for anyone in Antonio's family. She'd talk to him about that, not his general. She nodded and opened her door. "Okay. Thank you. I trust you."

"Good." Babik closed the door behind her. She walked into her room and stared at the dresses still on racks and sat on the chair she had her makeup done in an hour ago.

Everything had changed. Antonio targeted her specifically and lied about it, which gnawed at her from the inside. Then he had a political mess where there was clearly a plot for a coup. She should go, pack her bag and get out of here.

Her lips still tingled with his kiss, which shouldn't make a difference, but to her it did. If she went home, no one would make her feel like that again. But a kiss wasn't love.

Her head began to ache though at least her heart slowed to its normal pace. The door opened and she rose to her feet, expecting Antonio.

Her eyes widened and she bowed her head and curtsied when she saw it was his mother. "Your Highness."

Queen Anna Camilla stood in front of her. "I thought you were about to be my daughter-in-law. Why did you leave?"

Kristin wasn't sure what to do. She glanced up and saw the queen was about to sit where Renee had her hair done with her. Kristin returned to her seat. "I thought you wanted Sophia to wed Antonio."

The queen motioned for her to sit and once she did, she turned her knees toward her. "I want my son to inherit the throne and help us squash this coup in our small kingdom."

Foreign affairs weren't her cup of tea. She'd studied enough history to know monarchs tended to lose their heads against the will of the people. "If that's what the people want, democracy isn't a bad way to go."

"It's not." The queen spoke with such assurance that Kristin accepted it as truth. "But you're under a bad impression at the moment. The citizens of Avce love us."

Kristin lowered her head and let the sense that Antonio was not going to die here wash over her. She could breathe easier as the queen said, "We are a constitutional monarchy and we were brought back by the majority over a decade ago. There are splinter groups loyal to other nearby countries, but they are not "the people." You have already been told our attackers were outsiders."

"Antonio said he'd lose his ability to see his family ever again if he doesn't marry in two weeks. Would you really banish your son?"

"No." She sighed and leaned closer. "The laws are ancient and meant to preserve bloodlines that he didn't know about until it was almost too late."

"But..." Kristin pleated the red fabric in her fingers and tried to figure out how she felt. She chose her words carefully. "I don't know if he should marry me."

The queen's chin lifted in a royal manner but she reached out and patted Kristin's hand. "You make him happy. I see it on his face and you look happy next to him."

She lowered her lashes. "I was, but he doesn't love me or believe in love."

"From what I understood, you don't believe in love yourself." The queen stood, straightened any nonexistent wrinkles her ball gown might have and then said, "Argue about semantics later. He gave you a contract outlining duties you would perform for a fee, correct? Right now we have the press here and it's time we all do our duty."

If she married him, then she needed to speak with him, alone, about his computer search. If people knew the playboy prince was actually looking for a wife, he would have been inundated, and he had no time to waste. Antonio was always so logical about everything. She swallowed her pride. "Where is Antonio?"

The queen stopped at the door. "Antonio and Babik had to speak, but... well, here he is."

Kristin's gaze locked on his. A different sort of rush pulsed in her veins now. She couldn't look away as she asked, "Can you give us a minute?"

The queen answered, "Of course. Kristin, do not wash your knuckles or change out of that dress. I want the press to see that you can take care of yourself. Feisty American."

Kristin tore her gaze off Antonio and stared at his mother. She truly was a master politician. "Yes, Your Majesty."

The doors closed behind her and they were alone. She wanted to run into his arms, but she wasn't that weak. She hugged her waist to still her wayward thoughts. "Antonio."

He came closer and traced her face. His touch ignited her cells and made her ache to be with him. "Kristin, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. Hold on." She tore herself away and marched toward her bag. She was about to do something possibly reckless, but she had to follow through. She took out the contract and dug for a pen. A moment later she signed it.

Then she handed the papers to Antonio who asked, "What's this?"

"The contract," she reminded him. She then straightened her dress and ignored the small tear near her knee. Her pulse raced as she said, "I'll still marry you."

He reached out for her hand again but she kept hers at her side. This was a no love agreement. She stared down and asked, "So, you forgive me for leaving you at the table?"

He narrowed his gaze and his brow furrowed. "I think I should be the one asking you. I should have told you about the computer program."

It was not her style to let a computer give her an excel sheet of names and numbers of the men she might marry. She'd skipped Internet dating despite recommendations because she felt people lied in their profiles. But since she was part of his scheme, she wanted the numbers. "How many people did it find for you?"

He crossed his arms. "After going through billions, you were the final choice."

The only name was hers. Whoever he hired was both her fairy godmother and the devil himself, but if she chose to stay, then in time she'd figure out a way to win his heart too. Love had to exist, somehow. Right now she was still too angry to think clearly, so she pushed the contract into his hand and hoped this ended the conversation. "Well, here is the contract. We should be good, and I'll conduct myself properly from now on."

He reached out for her, but she avoided his touch. "Kristin..."

If he touched her then she might let go of her anger and that had kept her alive so far. She needed the protection of her shield and he might take it away by being kind. "Let's go tell the press. I'm thrilled to be your bride."

"Kristin, I'm sorry."

Tears swelled in her eyes and she turned toward him. He pierced through her armor and she felt the waterworks growing that would run her makeup. She sniffled to stop it. "Don't. Let's just go."

He came forward and brushed a wayward piece of hair out of her eyes. "There was only you for me. I can't imagine marrying anyone else."

She hugged him and sniffed against his shoulder. His mother had wanted her to be strong, but now she'd be a hot mess. "Stop. I'll ruin my makeup and your mother wants me looking tough."

He massaged her back which helped calm her as he kissed her forehead. "After? Can we talk, just you and me?"

"Sure." What else could she say? She was tired. She knew he wasn't in love with her. She'd agreed to his terms of the contract. Now to navigate through her own heart to figure out how to live with this decision, because the truth was she wanted him. She wanted to be here and she wanted to be in his arms. And most of all she wanted to believe that love was real.

# Chapter 13

Antonio felt ice still in his veins despite Kristin being saved from Korba's clutches.

Babik had told him that Henri and four other guards were in the communist bloc. One had joined earlier that day when Antonio brought Kristin home because he was scared his country might join Slovenia or Italy, as they were nestled between the two countries. The fears were irrational and based on history where their kingdom didn't maintain self-control.

Henri hadn't needed to threaten Kristin, and he empathized with the eighteen-year-old boy who just joined the guard to make money for his family and got misled by Korba. The courts would decide what was best for him, but he'd mention it in his written testimony.

He had to reassure the people, but in front of the camera he couldn't say much. He'd always hated the camera which was why he normally pasted a fake, somewhat arrogant, smile on his face during interviews. He nodded.

Kristin answered questions with a genuine smile. She wrapped her arm around his and said, "I'm delighted to marry Prince Antonio Aussa."

One reporter asked her, "What brought the two of you together?"

She nudged him. He met her gaze and then loosened his tight muscles in his shoulders as he tugged her closer for a side-hug. Her mussed hair was falling out of her up-do and her red dress was torn at the knee. "She applied to be my secretary. I saw more in her and it wasn't just her fighting skills."

She laughed and beamed into the camera. "I don't remember boxing anyone during my job interview." She turned and stared at him again. "I was too busy gawking, unable to believe that I was in the room with you."

He hugged her and wished the camera wasn't there. He'd kiss her and find a way to fix his mistake. "Her honesty and drive are part of why she is my perfect bride." He turned back to the reporter. This time he had a message and his shoulders tightened. "Now, I also hope anyone else who wishes for a coup pays attention. I will not allow one more person in this palace who threatens my family. The only way the Aussa reign will end is if in the election, the people choose a communist regime. Focus on winning the votes and leave my bride alone."

Kristin blinked up at him. "What vote?"

Goodness. Things had been so rushed since they'd met that she didn't know... and of course this had to play out in front of the camera. He took a deep breath, showed his arrogant smirk and said, "I've not explained anything to my bride. I was too busy trying to get her to say yes."

She laughed, so comfortable with the camera crew that they smiled back. "I'm not easy."

He took both of her hands in his. "Right before our wedding, in three days, the nation decides if we are to return to the communist way that they lived under when my family was in exile or if we continue forward with capitalistic leanings, and our family, as a symbol for the people."

"It's his family that led us all to a place where we were blessed by the holy family." One reporter added, "Any true citizen of Avce wants your family to remain in the palace, Your Highness."

Antonio felt his cheeks heat, but he glanced at Kristin. "No matter what happens with the vote, Kristin needs to know I choose to marry her and it's not because of ancient laws."

The look of compassion in Kristin's eyes while she spoke to the reporter made him think she was the prettiest woman ever. Then she tilted her head and stared at the camera. "So either I stay here as a princess, or just become your wife where we don't have to rush into things. Either way I win."

Natural ability did not begin to describe her with their audience. He'd taken years of study and still his stomach felt like it was in knots. He tugged at her to go.

She waved at the camera and the reporter she just spoke to waved back. Kristin's charm was intoxicating and soon everyone would see how wonderful she was. He guided her away from the balcony and he felt calmer having her to himself.

On their way to her room, he placed his hand on her back. She turned toward him, and stared at his profile. As they reached a window where the full moon shined on them, she reached out and asked, "I was happy Babik saved me earlier, but I felt better the second you came to me."

"I was frantic that I didn't have your location." He decided to take her outside to the balcony. He opened the door so the cool, fresh air kept things between them easy and crossed his arms. "I called Babik but you never told me where in the castle you were. He found you first; my mother and I came here as soon as we knew where you were headed. She wanted a few minutes to talk to you, alone. Babik and I discussed the guards' loyalty." She closed her eyes and nodded. Once she opened her eyes, he asked, "What I don't know is what she said to you."

"She said she loved you." Kristin went to the end of the balcony that overlooked the river and the forest beyond them. Everything sparkled from the moonlight and mist.

He followed her and asked his next question though he was mesmerized by how the moon caught gold in her brown hair. "What else did she talk to you about?"

She turned toward him with both hands on the balcony rail. "She talked about duty."

"Now that sounds about right. What else?" If he understood why she became more distant emotionally, then he could fix it.

She let go of the railing and stared at him. "She told me what I needed to hear so that I'd stay in Avce."

He kept his voice low. She even made the night air smell better, with a hint of floral. "What did you need to hear?"

"I told you." She looked into his gaze. "It was about duty and if I wanted to stay with you then it was time to follow through with my part of the deal."

The sense she didn't want to be kissed hit him. He kept his distance, but offered her his hand. "Kristin, I should have told you..."

"Why did Sophia have that ring on her finger?" She interrupted his apology; her palm brushed against his and then she tugged it away. "I would never presume to wear someone else's things."

The truth was he had no idea. He'd intended to buy Kristin a ring from him, but between hostage situations there'd been no time. His heartbeat raced. "I don't know."

She covered her lips with her fingers as if she wanted to hide. He had no idea what to say, but then she lowered her hand, placed it at her side, which seemed unnaturally stiff and said, "I'm not asking because I'm jealous. She knows your world, she wants to marry you. Why can't you marry her? Why did you resort to a computer search?"

He leaned against the balcony rails. If he had met Kristin organically, he'd have chased after her immediately—wanting to know more. Right now he felt the money he paid IT was all worth it because she was here. He had to convey the truth. "I met Sophia when I was thirteen. She was introduced as a potential bride when we lived in England, and then she never left. I don't remember holidays without her presence. I understand that my mother wants to ensure I continue the bloodline, but I felt trapped."

She took a deep breath and then mimicked his stance and leaned against the rails. "So you relied on computer technology and trusted that?"

The wind gently pushed Kristin's hair in his direction. He moved so she had less of a breeze in her face. "The last woman I was remotely interested in never spoke to me after meeting Sophia. I had to do something and she's always right behind me. I don't want to marry someone because all she sees is my title and a chance to be Queen."

She reached out and brushed her hand against his. "You hardly know me."

Her touch was like an electric rod. He scooted closer. "I know enough. Kristin, I want things back to where we were before dinner."

She came closer and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, but what's holding us back isn't the dinner or Sophia."

"What's wrong?" Whatever it was, he'd fix it. Fast. Kristin was his.

She swallowed as if nervous. "It's the contract. We agree that love isn't a factor. I'm in danger of violating that clause."

Love. The word clung in the air. His parents married for love, and he only put that in the contract in case he wanted a way out of marrying a stranger. Everything was different now, but he didn't know the right words. He reached out and brushed the hair that stayed near her eyes off her cheek. "Kristin, tomorrow, after our day where you get fitted for a dress..."

"Did you become your mother with talk about clothes for appearance's sake?" She shook her head. "I've not thought about a wedding dress."

He patted her arm. "You need to, quickly. Tomorrow evening, can we spend the night together? I'll plan something special."

She smiled at him and it felt like he'd won a marathon, but the only crowd that cheered was the one he needed. "You had me at tomorrow."

"I promise I'll make things better."

Then she wrapped her arms around his waist and puckered her lips. He leaned forward and accepted her offering of peace. Her kiss righted everything in his world.

Without another word, he led her off the balcony and toward her room. Once he opened the door for her, she reached into his suitjacket, massaged his back, and kissed his cheek. "Stay with me. No one has to know."

He followed her into the room, but said, "Everyone will know in the palace."

She kissed his cheek again. "Does it matter?"

No ring... He kissed her and forgot about that for the moment. She tugged him toward her bed and he said, "I have to leave early in the morning for the changing of the guard ceremony. I'm pinning a metal on Babik and the young nurse who saved my father's life."

"That's tomorrow, and Babik deserves a raise." She took off her earrings and placed them on the vanity below the long mirror.

The racks of clothes were gone now and he had a clear sight to her bed. His body grew hard, so he tugged his ear to avoid the change. Duty. "You'll see my mother and pick out a dress."

She removed her necklace as well and then returned and kissed him, drawing his lip into her mouth. "All this protesting. If you don't want to..."

"Oh, I want." He kissed the nape of her neck. Her skin was soft and tantalizing.

She wiggled her backside and laughed. "Then help me with my dress."

He reached out and unzipped the tight red dress. The curve of her back was something he could stare at all day.

Once the zipper went to the bottom, he traced her spine with his lips and kissed her neck again. "Kristin, you are beautiful."

She turned and let the gown hit the floor. She tugged at his suit jacket and he slipped it off, along with his shoes. She unbuttoned his shirt and gazed up at him. "So, any hints on your plan tomorrow for a special evening?" She reached the bottom button.

"I made you a promise I intend to keep, but that's tomorrow."

"No." She unbuckled his belt. "I can be patient as long as you keep me busy."

Without another word he stripped off the rest of his clothes and let his manhood free. "Like this?"

"Now you're getting it." She scooted on the bed, inviting him to join her.

He unclasped her bra, freeing her nipples. They were pert and ready for his kiss. "How about this?"He claimed her chest with his lips.

She arched back for him, "Mmm hmm."

He let one full breast free and aimed for the other. "What was that?"

She wrapped her legs around him and he felt her panties as the barrier. "No more talking, Your Highness."

"Are you ordering me around, Princess?" He traced her body with his fingertips. Her skin was soft everywhere and her curves just made him harder. He tugged off underwear so there was no more barrier.

She giggled and reached for his shoulders to pull him up to her face. "Is that a problem?"

He claimed her lips in a kiss as he pushed his way inside her. She sighed a sweet sound as he said, "Not as long as I can do this."

"Oh, yes," she murmured as he set a rhythm for them.

Then to tease her he withdrew and kissed her neck. She placed her hands on his hips and gently guided him back inside her. "More."

"Yes." He retook her body as his own. They were one and she was the perfect mate for him, no matter how he had found her.

# Chapter 14

Kristin Wells sashayed in her blue jeans down the halls of the palace and really studied every corner. Impeccably well kept, the pristine powder blue walls with white trim looked spotless and not a speck of dust was anywhere.

Soon this would be her home.

Her body hummed for Antonio, though last night she'd hardly slept. He was amazing in everything he did, and his stiff upper lip wasn't stiff at all when he feasted on her.

She giggled and continued down the hall. Antonio had drawn her directions this morning and she held the paper in her hand to find the breakfast room, where she was supposed to meet Renee.

She followed the map and stood in front of a large white door with gold trim. This reminded her of how she imagined Versailles in France, though she'd never been to compare. Perhaps he'd take her on a tour after they married. She sucked in her breath and opened the door.

Everyone stood from their seats at a huge dining room that was clearly being used as a conference room. At least ten men and women in suits stood next to Renee and the queen, who was the only one seated. The queen turned her head and said, "Kristin, glad you could join us, come in."

Her skin prickled like she was a young girl caught by the teacher for some mistake on a test and expected to be corrected. She lowered her head. "Am I late to a meeting?"

"I let you sleep in as my son hadn't left your room until three hours ago." The queen waved her forward to the seat next to hers. Once Kristin stood at her place at the table, everyone waited for her to sit.

This was her life now. Kristin nodded, though her cheeks were hot, and sat. "Yes, er, thank you."

The queen then asked politely, "So you worked out the problem?"

"There was a problem?" Renee asked and her eyes grew wide like saucers.

She hadn't been the best friend, Kristin noted, confiding everything about the contract. It seemed too personal to share so being upset over it wasn't something she could tell Renee. Kristin tugged her ear. "It's fine now, Renee. Antonio and I made plans to see each other tonight."

Queen Anna Camilla told the group, "He has already informed me that he will not be available for tonight's foreign affairs dinner."

"Ohh." Kristin turned toward everyone and asked the queen, "Are these your foreign affairs guests?"

"No." The queen waved her hand. "These are designers and they wish to know your taste in clothes. Some have samples for you."

Kristin stared at all of them. Designers? Seriously, the queen thought about clothes, all the time, but Kristin kept that to herself. "I thought we were here to discuss the wedding? The ceremony? Expectations."

Everyone else took their seats.

Renee said, "Valentino's a top designer, next to me here, and a few other brands we both know. Queen Anna Camilla said they want you in press conferences and out in public wearing their line of clothes. You're to always look fabulous!" Renee laughed. "But yes, the primary purpose today is to find out what kind of dress you want to get married in."

Her jeans were Banana Republic which she had stashed away the extra money to get on sale, so she had no idea about Valentino other than the designer was out of her price range. She blinked and then folded her hands together on the empty table. It seemed no one had touched the buffet behind her, though the smell of bacon lingered in the air. "The truth is I never thought about getting married to have a dress picked out. So I'd like to try on a few different styles to really see which one I like."

Renee laughed and sat further back in her chair. "This sounds awesome—and whatever you don't want, I'll happily take."

The queen nodded her regal head. "The next room is already set up for you to try things on. Right now we'll just choose from different whites and basic body types."

Renee smiled. "Try the mermaid on first, Kristin. You have the perfect figure for it."

Kristin took a deep breath. At least Antonio had warned her about what was necessary for today. Also, Sophia wasn't here. Nothing could go wrong. She let out a soft sigh as she imagined her wedding. "Glad you're here, Renee."

The group all stood once she did. She'd eat after she tried on a few dresses. Renee linked her arm with hers as they proceeded through the door to the next room. "Once the wedding is over, I'll go back to my normal life but you'll start living in this world forever. I'm excited for you."

Inside the room she saw enough clothes to open her own shop, and these were just samples. Kristin passed a rack of Balenciaga designs and kept the question to herself on who they were. She walked straight for the wedding dresses and let Renee hand her one. She hugged it to her waist and blinked. "Renee, I'm happy..."

The main door of the room opened as light grew brighter between the racks. Kristin pressed her lips together and let the shiver of cold sharpen her spine.

The queen then said, "Sophia, we discussed that you would not come today."

Kristin walked closer to the main room to see.

Sophia lowered her head and spoke softly, "Your Highness, I came to apologize. My own wishes..." She shook her head and stared directly at Kristin in the side door. "I shouldn't have put the ring on. I wanted..." This time she curled her fists and glanced at Kristin. "I hoped to be the one, but he chose you."

Antonio said she scared off the last girl. Kristin stayed hyperaware, but tried to be kind. "Okay. Don't worry about it, Sophia."

Sophia took one step farther in the room. "Before you start trying on dresses, can I talk to you?"

Kristin glanced at the queen. What should she do? Queen Anna Camilla liked Sophia and Kristin needed to be the one she liked at the end of the day. She swallowed her fear. "Of course." She handed the dress to Renee. "Be right back."

Sophia then motioned for the two of them to leave. Kristin followed her into the hall. "Where do you want to talk?"

"In here." Sophia opened the door across from them. "I have a surprise for you."

Every cell in her body told her to run, but she needed to get this conversation over with in order to have a strong marriage. She forced her sluggish feet to go inside, but once she did, she stopped. Her neighbor from home stared at her, his eyes big in a pale face beneath a mop of blond hair. "Greg, what are you doing here?"

"He's come to save you from making a big mistake," Sophia said not sounding meek or sorry anymore.

Greg winced as if this was the last place he wanted to be. He wore a wife-beater and cargo shorts that he normally wore when washing his car outside the apartment complex in the humid Miami heat.

Kristin put her hand in her pocket and gripped her phone. She hoped she hit the power button, and Antonio. He'd programmed his name as number one. She did it as quietly as she could, but Antonio had warned her to be on guard. She faced Sophia again. "Excuse me?"

Sophia circled her like she was a lion and Kristin the prey. "Greg here has already confessed to our local news that you love him, and that you are using our prince for his fortune."

"That's insane." Kristin kept her head high, tracking Sophia.

"Kristin, just listen to her, please," Greg said on a sob. "She has my mom."

His mother? How would his mother fit into this plan of Sophia's? His face was sickly white beneath his Miami tan, so she believed him. Sophia crossed her arms. "Your friend, Renee, is also about to find out that her parents are missing too and she needs to hurry home."

All these people were in danger now because of her. Kristin's blood froze. "Why would you do that?"

"Seems you don't have family I can use against you, but you are loyal to your friends." Sophia came closer and stared her in the eyes. "I fully intend to be queen and help my people rebuild in a better sense than you ever could."

Her people. She clearly already saw herself in the role. Kristin's palms broke into a sweat. "What do you want?"

"For you to leave quietly," Sophia said. "Without a word to Antonio."

All her problems just burst forward as a movie that replayed in her mind, but this time it was Sophia.Kristin's fingers shook. "Are you behind what happened here in the palace? The hostage situation? The disloyal guards?"

Sophia rolled her eyes. "A smart woman would have left on the first plane out of here. I don't know why you stayed."

Kristin needed to be in control and think on her feet. She turned to her neighbor. "Greg, where is your mother?"

"I don't know." He pointed to Sophia. "She only let me talk to her on the phone and told me to get on the plane if I wanted my mother to live."

Greg's fear was palatable—his body shook, he swallowed repeatedly. The tremble in her hand now moved to her entire arm, but she hid it behind her back. "Why would you hurt innocent people, Sophia?"

"Antonio's my property." _No he wasn't._ He'd turned to a computer to find a new wife that might match rather than be with Sophia. The thought helped stabilize her hands and she stopped shaking as Sophia continued, "This entire kingdom will have its first queen without a king soon enough. I've been biding my time, and at the last second, you showed up. I will not tolerate this interruption of my plan."

Sophia intended to kill Antonio too? No. Her hands went into fists. She refused to let this woman hurt more people she loved.

Suddenly Antonio and a guard came out of the shadow of the other room. "Babik, we've heard enough. Arrest her."

Kristin's heart leapt. "Antonio?"

Babik placed handcuffs on Sophia, none too gently.

"What about my mom?" Greg asked. "I need her back. She's in danger."

Antonio wrapped his arm around her, but nodded at Greg. "My brother Lucio is at FBI headquarters in Washington DC already. I thought he was looking for a wife, but he's been tracking Sophia's known associates for the past year. Let me call him."

"Thanks," Greg said.

Babik and the guards took Sophia out of the room.

"And Renee's parents?" Kristin asked as Antonio dialed a number on his phone.

He spoke into the receiver, then raised his voice and said, "Lucio's on the phone. I'm putting him on speaker—go ahead, Lucio."

" _Bonjourno_. The FBI has confirmed Renee's parents are at home and currently serving the agents tea and doughnuts," Lucio said. "There are agents checking Greg's mother's house now, but no sign of her yet. They will report to me so I'll know more shortly." He ended the call.

Kristin closed her eyes and prayed everything was fine with Greg's mother. She had to be okay, for all their sakes. She finished her prayer and then asked, "So, how can we help Greg, Antonio?"

"We'll tell you anything we discover." Antonio rocked on his heels, his hands behind his back. "Let's hope your mother is safe, but for right now, we can offer a room in the palace for as long as you'd like, and a flight home. Whatever you need, but I recommend waiting for my brother to call me back with news. He won't let you down."

Greg said thank you in a shaky voice. He took a few steps but his walk was unsteady. He stopped and coughed, then coughed again.

Kristin went straight for the untouched buffet and grabbed a glass of water. She returned, handed Greg the glass and then hugged Antonio. "Antonio, let's go tell everyone what happened while we wait for news about Greg's mom. It's really over now."

He kissed her forehead and they walked out of the room and across the hall. Beside Antonio, a rich and full life stood in front of her, but first they needed to ensure no one else was hurt.

# Chapter 15

The moment Antonio entered the room, one of the designers moved the rack of wedding dress samples behind one of the other samples so it wasn't obvious to see. She'd always heard it was bad luck to see the dress so she'd not invite trouble, even if it was a silly superstition.

Greg went and hugged Renee with his arms only, as if he didn't want to get too close. Renee's face was red, but she squeezed his neck.

Kristin glanced at Queen Anna Camilla and a dozen designers in a row like this was a fashion show. A moment later, Renee joined Antonio who spoke to his mother.

The queen looked shaken at the news, then said, "Sophia's from Neblo, a neighboring region that did not bring back their monarchy. It is possible that she has followers from there."

Antonio held Kristin close.

Babik opened the door and her breath caught in her throat as the general, straight-backed, bowed his head. "Your Highness."

The queen motioned for him to speak.

"Sophia Venko promised a quarter of our guard lands and money for their help in reclaiming her rightful throne."

Antonio shook his head and continued to hold her with one arm around her waist. How many women had Sophia threatened throughout the years? She swallowed as Antonio asked, "How did such a thing happen right under our noses?"

Babik stood at attention, his expression grave. "She's been a guest here for so long, Majesty. Most assumed she'd one day be Antonio's bride. Now that he's marrying the lovely Princess Kristin, most are questioning what they have already done for Sophia."

"I'm not a princess, Babik." The title felt wrong at the moment.

Antonio answered without commenting on what she'd said. "The biggest question right now is what Sophia has done with Greg's mother."

Greg glanced over at them and the pain in his eyes was heart-wrenching.

Babik never blinked. "I'm coordinating information with the FBI, but we have no record of a plane landing here from the United States."

Good. If Greg's mother was safe at home, then Kristin could breathe again, and the ordeal would be over. "Where would she be, if not in Avce?"

Babik answered like a well-trained soldier. "The FBI believes she's somewhere in Florida. And they have a trace on Zika Horvak."

"Zika." The queen paled. "He worked for you. A member of the guard."

"Yes." Babik's next words held a streak of cold. "If he returns, he'll face a court martial."

Greg piped in from behind them. "I just want my mom to be okay."

"We will do everything we can," Kristin promised.

The queen then motioned for both of them to follow her onto the patio. "Antonio, can I talk to you and Kristin for a minute?"

"Yes, Mother." Antonio offered Kristin his arm. They both followed the queen outside. "What's going on?"

She crossed her arms and stared at both of them. "The people will need to see us united this evening. The wedding is in two days and so is the vote. I'll need you ready so it is imperative that Kristin try on dresses so she's gowned as a royal."

Kristin wasn't born into politics but his mother worked endlessly. Would this be expected of her too? By signing the contract, she agreed to do whatever Antonio needed from his wife.

"Mother," Antonio said, dropping his voice, "what if the people vote to end our constitutional monarchy and return to the communist ways that were implemented?"

His mother quickly answered, "Don't be defeatist, Antonio. It's not going to happen."

If they lost the vote, this might mean that Antonio was free to live his life with or without her. Kristin turned to him in concern. He wouldn't have to get married in two days, right? "Mother, be prepared."

Queen Anna Camilla brushed her hand against her son's cheek, letting the other fall to the side. "That's what I'm telling you both." She turned toward Kristin and smiled. "Pick a dress. I'll handle everything else."

"I will at once." What else could she say? Right now she was picking the style. Then the rest of the design would follow.

The queen hugged them and they returned to the room with the group of designers and the racks of dresses. Kristin immediately walked over to the group and called for her friends. "Renee, Greg, I have to go change but let me know if anything happens."

"Can I watch the fashion show then while we wait to hear?" Greg sounded like he hated every word he said. If she had loved ones, other than those here already, it would be hard to be anywhere else but with them too.

"Sure." Renee offered a sympathetic pat on Greg's shoulder that he turned away from as she said, "Why don't you sit with the designers?"

Antonio kissed her forehead, but then his phone rang. She saw it was his brother Lucio again. They spoke so fast that she had no idea what they discussed. As she walked toward the racks, Antonio grabbed her wrist to hold her. "Kristin."

There must be news. Her heart sped up. "What?"

He then leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Keep your phone on you at all times. I added a tracer, which was how I found you this morning."

She sighed and hugged him. He truly knew how to protect everyone. "So you received my call? I was pressing buttons and hoping."

"Yes." He pushed her hair out of her face and nodded. He then kissed her cheek and kept his voice low so the group waiting for her couldn't hear them. "I heard every word. We'll need to stay sharp and on our toes."

"Yes." Her heart beat for him and she wished she could wrap her arms around him, hold tight and kiss him. However, there were probably rules against public displays like that. She hugged him and then let go.

He spoke in a more normal tone. "Tonight, after the announcement my mother needs us to make, I still want time alone with you. I planned something."

She felt her cheeks warm as she nodded. "Then I'm all yours."

"I like that, a lot."

He walked to the door. Being Antonio's wife meant becoming a princess, so Kristen went toward her friends and asked, "Renee, the mermaid dress was the first style?"

"Yes. I put them in order," her best friend said.

Kristin saw Antonio leave, though he winked at her before closing the door. Once he was gone, she picked up the first dress and said, "Good. Help me?"

She put it on and gasped for air as the zipper constricted her waist. Yes, it was shimmery white, satin and lace, but she couldn't breathe! "No, thanks."

* * *

"But look at your figure!" Renee said, turning Kristin toward the full-length mirror set up in the anteroom.

Absolutely not. Renee pulled her out to show everyone, and Kristin ignored the gasps of excitement from the designers.

So what if she had the perfect hourglass figure? This dress style was a no—she'd never make it down the aisle.

Suddenly, Antonio dashed into the room with his hand covering the phone speaker, gaining everyone's attention. "Greg, your mother boarded a flight to Vegas. FBI is intercepting now."

Greg sat on one of the chairs near the long dining table, and Kristin saw the glimmer of a tear form in his eye. "Can I talk to her?"

"It's my brother Lucio on the call," Antonio said though it was clear he was uncomfortable with a man's tears. He hit the button for speaker. "Greg wants to talk to his mother."

Lucio, who had a deep voice similar to Antonio's, spoke to someone he was near and then told them on the phone, "We are patching things together now so you can talk to her directly."

A few seconds later, an older woman said, "Greggie? Are you okay?"

Greg wiped tears from his eyes. "Mom?"

His mother sounded all choked up, too. "Greg, you're safe. I was so worried about you."

"Me?" His voice cracked. "Mom, you were kidnapped!"

His mother moaned. "No. They told me you were going to have to sacrifice yourself to save me. I can't let you do that. You're my only son. Be safe and live."

Greg cried, then tugged at the scooped neck of his white tank top. "I can't, Mom. There is a bomb strapped to my body that's set to explode. I'm sorry. I love you."

"Wait! What?" Antonio ended the call with Lucio, stepped back and shoved her and his mother behind him. He looked over his shoulder and met his mother's gaze. "Go. Get Babik."

"I have to get your father." The queen ran out of the room.

"It's strapped to my chest," Greg said in tones full of misery. "Sophia and Victor Amadeus threatened to kill my mom. They had pictures of her tied up. Sophia said she was going to let herself get caught so Victor could win."

"Victor? Marco's friend." Antonio gestured to those still in the room. "Kristin, Renee, everyone, get out—go to the front of the palace. Outside."

Kristin grabbed his arm, unwilling to leave him. "Do you have a bomb squad?"

Antonio covered her hand with his. "Marco is the best trained person in the country."

His mother must have told everyone on her way to the sick room because guards rushed to help get the guests out and his brother Marco ran inside. "I'm here, Antonio."

Kristin rubbed his tense arm muscle. "What can we do?"

"Help my mom and my father, Kristin." Antonio stepped toward his brother and Greg.

She held him firm to keep him one more second. "What about you?"

Antonio kissed her fast and hard. "I'm staying to help my brother fix this, and then I'm going to find Victor Amadeus. This has to stop."

"I love you. Come back to me," she said without a thought and hugged him.

He massaged her back for a brief second. "Absolutely."

Without another word he let her go and she ran after the other guests. Whatever happened, Antonio knew she loved him—now she had to help get a sick king out of the palace before the bomb exploded. Antonio had to come back to her, safe and sound.

# Chapter 16

Antonio's forehead beaded with sweat as he watched Greg sit on the chair—the bombs were not visible beneath Greg's wife-beater.

Marco spoke with Greg while Antonio ensured the room was clear of people, then gave Marco the signal that everyone was gone. Now that it was just the three of them Marco had to disarm the bomb.

Kristin had whispered she loved him.

"Stand up." Marco ripped Greg's tank top so he could see the bomb.

Antonio's jaw clenched. The device was so thin that it hadn't been visible beneath the tight fabric.

Greg stood still while Marco traced the belt with a small metal that looked like a pen. He stopped and pointed. "This is an IED, clearly made to let the world believe this was a suicide bomb." Marco then pointed to a plastic container. "This is the PETN, but I need to find the trigger and stop it before it detonates."

Greg's tears rolled down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I just wanted to wash my car, that's why I'm wearing these ugly clothes."

Antonio tried to keep Greg calm while Marco worked overtime to find a way to ensure that bomb didn't go off. "We'll get you back there, Greg."

Greg nodded and sniffed. "I don't want a life of excitement. I just want to go home and forget this ever happened."

A loud bang echoed as the door opened with such force it hit the wall and was then followed with heavy footsteps. Now what? Antonio turned, expecting to see Babik, but Victor Amadeus walked into the room with a semi-automatic gun.

Antonio flexed, eager to face the threat against his family and win. "Keep working, Marco. I'll handle this."

Victor snorted with derision. "I'm sorry, I can't let you do that."

Antonio straightened to meet the man who wanted to steal his throne, his legacy, from him. If he died tonight, then he died knowing Kristin and his parents were safe—he'd take Victor down with him. In that second he understood Greg's tears—not for himself but for a loved one. Antonio never blinked. He crossed his arms. "Victor, put the gun down."

Victor came closer. "You walk around all proud of yourself because you were brought back to be a future king when the truth is you don't deserve any of this."

Antonio inched closer. If he had a chance to rush him for the gun then they all had hope. He kept his words steady and his forward movement unnoticed. "It's true. I don't deserve a crown. I never sought it out. It was offered to my father, because of our family lineage. The people believe if we're here, then our kingdom is blessed from heaven above and that they will all prosper."

Victor snarled and cocked the gun. "Your father bribed people to get back to Avce."

Antonio put his hands up but took another step forward. He was closer. "Now, that's a stretch." His dad hadn't bribed anyone. "Either way, you've lost. Even if you manage to kill all of us, my brother Lucio is in the FBI—so someone in my family survives to take over the throne." One more step and he could tackle him. "You gain nothing from any of this."

Victor pointed the gun at Antonio's face. "I get to watch you and your brother die and know I finally stopped you."

He had one chance. He lowered his head like he was scared and asked, "Stopped us? From what?"

"From having what you don't deserve," Victor said. Antonio jumped forward and punched him square in the nose. Victor rocked backward, off balance. Antonio reached for the gun and struggled to get it out of Victor's hands, peeling back Victor's thumb to get the man to release his desperate grip.

As Antonio threw the weapon on the floor, he hit Victor again. "That's it. This is over."

"Not quite." Victor pulled out a small device that must trigger the bomb.

"Don't!" Greg yelled, his tan face paling.

Marco called out, "It's clear."

Antonio's heart raced. Could he trust that Marco had really fixed it? He clawed at Victor's arm in an effort to get the trigger and they both wrestled onto the ground.

A shadow loomed behind them both and then someone else punched Victor in the back of the head. He sprawled, unconscious.

Greg kicked Victor for good measure and stood above him. "No one gets to hurt my mother."

He assisted Antonio up. Antonio wiped his hands on his pants and then patted Greg on the shoulder. "Thanks."

A second later, the ricochet of the bomb exploding knocked them all on their feet. Antonio flipped over on his stomach. Where was Marco?

The debris cleared the room and it seemed like all four walls still existed.

Marco then called out from the patio, "Is everyone okay?"

"What happened?" Antonio stood up again. This time he helped Greg.

Victor was still out cold.

Marco pointed to the balcony. "I threw it into the river, away from the village and the castle."

"Quick thinking." Hopefully Kristin, his mom and everyone else was safe in one of the other towers. Antonio glanced around the room for something that might be used as rope to tie Victor, but then settled on his belt. He knelt next to Victor and looked up at his baby brother. "Want to call Babik?"

Marco nodded and took out his phone. He spoke to the guards and then hung up. He knelt next to Antonio and adjusted the tightness of the leather around Victor's hands. "I knew Victor was jealous but I had no idea it went this deep."

Neither had he. He thought Victor and Sophia were just hangers-on-socialites who never went home. Until recently Sophia had only ever tried to kiss him, and scare off other women. He shook his head and thought of Kristin. "He and Sophia cooked up this scheme. The vote and my wedding made them desperate, but I have no idea why Lucio suspected them for a year."

"I'm glad you found Kristin," Marco said. "And Lucio suspects everyone and trusts no one."

"True." Kristin's smile made him ache to be with her. "I should go find Kristin now."

The march of the guards echoed in the hall. Antonio stood and saw General Babik, who seriously needed a medal of honor. "Babik! Arrest this man." He gestured at Victor.

Babik answered, "Yes, Sire."

Marco spoke to Greg, who paled as Antonio approached.

"I-"

"I get it, you didn't do it." Antonio understood Greg wasn't in league with Victor and Sophia, and he'd been used against his will. He nodded at him. "Let's go find the others. They must be terrified."

Greg asked, "Is there a phone so I can talk to my mom again? She's probably sick, thinking I'd died already."

"Sure." Antonio dialed Lucio while Marco walked beside them through the halls. Antonio quickly told Lucio to get Greg's mom back on the line. Once she was on the phone, he guided Greg into the library and handed him the phone. "Talk as long as you want. We'll come back here and meet you."

"I owe you an apology, Antonio," Marco told him once they closed the library door and walked outside to meet their parents.

"Yeah?" Antonio's eyebrows arched as the doors opened for the two of them and cheers echoed from the villagers who gathered at the gate.

The jubilant cries were better than New Year's celebrations.

Antonio searched the clustered group for Kristin, and found her in a white wedding gown that had his pulse hammering—her curves, her long curls tumbling over her shoulder, her skin as delicate and pale as the satin.

She stood next to his fierce mother and frail father, who dozed in a wheel chair with a blanket over his lap, but at least he was alive. Marco slapped his shoulder and said, "Perhaps your computer search wasn't all wrong."

Antonio broke the spell of Kristin for one second and saw his brother stare at her friend. "You and Renee are... cozy."

Marco's throat turned red. "She's sweet and determined to head home. I'm going to try and see her after your wedding."

Antonio wrapped his arms around Kristin and the rest of the world stopped mattering. He kissed her forehead and let her rose smell wash through him. "Kristin."

She hugged him tight. "Thank God." She unwrapped one arm and placed her hand on his face as if she checked for bruises. "I was so worried."

"We're safe." He met his mother's insistent gaze. He followed her look and tapped Kristin's shoulder.

She turned around and her mouth opened. Marco and Renee were locked in an embrace. She said, "They're kissing."

"Who cares?" He fixed her hair out of her eyes. Then he leaned forward and claimed exactly what he wanted.

Kristin's kiss was worth everything.

His entire body grew hard though they were outside and a crowd cheered. He ended the kiss, but kept her tucked under his shoulder.

His father's raspy voice was solemn and everyone went quiet as he spoke, now awake and alert. "Son, what happened?"

"Marco disarmed the bomb strapped to an innocent man's chest. Victor was in league with Sophia—they are both in custody. How are you, Father?" He knew the cameras watching were on his father and mother, so he took his place as the dutiful son beside them.

His mother announced, "King Leopoldo will make a full recovery."

"That's good to hear," Marco added from behind him.

His father held his head high and stared at Kristin. "I will be standing at your wedding, son."

His mother spoke to the reporters like the pro she was. "And be there for when the votes are tallied."

"The cheering crowd empowering you to get better, Father?" Antonio asked, pressing his hands on both arms of the wheelchair. Kristin stayed next to him.

His father then told him, and reporters, "Your mother is a good woman. She's the best reason to keep on living."

A loud sigh erupted from the onlookers. Antonio took Kristin's hand and led her to stand in front. "Father, I'd like for you to formally meet Kristin Wells. This is my bride."

His mother than came beside Kristin and tugged on the wedding dress she still wore from the interrupted fitting and said with a smirk on her face. "As I told you son, Americans under or overdress for everything. I hope your Kristin is ready for my help."

Oh no—the last thing he needed was for Kristin to feel insulted. "Mother..."

"I'm joking." Queen Anna Camilla smiled and stroked Kristin's arm.

Kristin took the queen's hand in hers. "I hope you aren't. I need all the help I can get."

Finally he could breathe. His family was safe. Kristin was not in any danger and they had a genuine chance to be happy. But first he needed to speak to her, just the two of them. His heart beat as he remembered her words of love. He prayed those weren't an in-the-moment declaration and that she truly meant what she said.

If she did, he'd have everything in the world. And he could accept being a future king with Kristin at his side.

# Chapter 17

Kristin woke up in a pink nightgown that went to her ankles. She turned and pressed against the warmth of Antonio's back, covered in a cotton t-shirt. She kept her eyes closed, listening to the birds chirping outside.

Last night she'd intended to stay awake and wait for him. She blinked and realized her plan went wrong as it was morning. She rolled away from him and stretched.

His hand went around her waist and he squeezed her for a hug. "Kristin?"

He kissed her cheek. Somehow she'd hit the lottery when Antonio found her—she shouldn't have been angry at how. She sighed and said, "Sorry, I fell asleep last night. I know you wanted to talk. After all the excitement I must've been beat. But it feels good waking up in your arms."

"I agree." He sat up, not noticing the gorgeous day or the green forest in the distance. He kept his gaze on her as he said, "And it's okay. Let's eat breakfast together."

Tomorrow was their wedding, the reception, the vote tally and it all changed her life. There was so much to do. "I'll have to eat fast. Your mother has a packed schedule for me, including picking a dress style." They both climbed out of the bed as she said, "One of the designers will then whip up something in a factory and have it here by midnight. I'm fascinated to see how that works."

But first, the bathroom and a toothbrush. Once finished, she walked out and saw the small breakfast table on her balcony now had eggs, toast, coffee, and her favorite prince sitting there drinking a cup. When she approached, he kissed her forehead and then took his turn in the bathroom.

The normalcy between them was sweet. She wasn't worried about anything. She sat down and poured herself coffee.

A few minutes later, Antonio came out in his green t-shirt and blue boxer briefs, clearly not caring if anyone saw him. He sat down and picked up his coffee.

She nodded, "This is good."

He finished his cup and then rose to his feet. She put her cup down when he stood in front of her. Her pulse beat a little faster and he knelt down. Her skin jolted. This seemed like a proposal, but she'd already said yes. She trembled and he reached for her hand. "Tomorrow is our wedding. I went out and bought this for you."

Her breath caught in her throat and she saw the specks of green again in his gaze. He pulled out a jewelry box and her heart stirred. Was this his surprise from last night? She opened the square black box and a huge smile grew on her face at the twinkling jewel inside. "It's a ring!"

"I promised." He gave her that look, slightly arrogant, sexy as hell, that made every woman in the world swoon. He took the box back, then removed the ring from the black velvet.

The classic gold band and solitaire diamond shone brightly in the morning sun. Kristin reached out and gripped his shoulder. "You didn't have to."

He scooted closer and hugged her. Then he let her go and stared into her eyes again while kneeling. "After what happened with Sophia, I really did."

Why was he still on his knees? She already had the ring. She swallowed, unsure of what was happening now. She leaned forward and asked, "What are you doing?"

He folded both of her hands in his, the ring between them, and pressed his forehead to hers. "In the heat of the moment, you told me you loved me."

"Yes?" The patter in her heart grew and her breaths were shorter. She hadn't even thought about that moment. She had blurted out her feelings and then ran for her life.

He caressed the back of her hand. His gaze made her forget where she was because all she could see was him as he said, "I wanted that to be true and not just because we could die..."

"I love you, Antonio." She brushed his scruffy jaw and it scratched against her palm.

He nodded. "Good, because I love you. I didn't expect to ever fall in love. And I put in the contract that nonsense because I hadn't met you. I do love you."

"Can I have the ring now?" She held up her hand.

With a wink, he slipped it on her finger, but then he took her hand in his again. "Yes, but there is one more thing."

"What?" All she wanted was a kiss, but she was willing to listen.

He released her and reached under the food tray for an envelope that he slipped next to her. "I ripped up the old contract, but I will need you to sign a new one protecting my parents' crown. But you have my heart, and that means love."

Fair enough. She marched inside her huge room, ignoring the sparkle of the crystal chandelier and how it illuminated the room with morning light. She marched to the desk, found a pen and walked back toward the patio. Antonio had stood up to watch her. She returned, took the paper and scanned it as she said, "I never had an issue with the prenup at the end. It was quite generous."

She picked up her pen. Antonio reached for her hand with his mouth open. "Wait. You don't have to sign right now."

"But I do." She shook off his grip. She signed the papers, stuffed it back in the envelope and handed it to him.

"Why now? You should have read it. Taken it to a lawyer," Antonio protested.

She narrowed her gaze and stared deep into his eyes. "Was there something in there different than before other than what you took out?"

"I increased the money for you, if something happens." He swallowed.

To make him happy, she took the paper out again and read it. It looked the same to her, except he'd stricken anything about love from the contract. She flipped the page and saw the money he'd mentioned. Very generous. Years of reading books helped her read fast. She looked at him when she finished and asked, "Anything else?"

"No."

She stuffed it back in the envelope and handed it to him. "Everything was good." He took it from her and finally closed his mouth. "More important, I trust you. Tomorrow is the wedding, and I should head out. I'm going to be late for my dress fitting."

"You are?" He traced her curves with his fingers.

She puckered her lips and closed her eyes as she said, "Absolutely. I want you—but if I'm late, your mother will kill me. I've realized Queen Anna Camilla is big on clothes. It's her thing."

"Yes, my mother always cares about looking good, my future wife..." His lips descended upon hers and he kissed her hard. The shadow of a beard pressed against her soft skin, tickled her and made her aware of him.

Her hands tugged on his shirt. She had to have him. She had to touch the hard muscles that were hidden underneath the clothes. She pushed the shirt up, over his shoulders.

The ripple of his chest muscles was beautiful. She kissed his pecs while he stripped himself of his pants.

A raw hunger for him overtook her senses when she glanced down and saw his huge virility.

His large hand traced her body and lifted the nightgown she wore. She shimmied her underwear off so they both stood, naked and needy.

She licked her lips and reached out to touch his length, but he stopped her. "I want to taste you."

He took her hand and led her to the bed, where he waited for her to lay down. The moment she did, he suckled on her nipple.

His fingers found her entrance and played slowly while his mouth continued to feast on her breast.

Heat grew for him, everywhere and she was more than ready. She needed him.

Instead he kissed her again, this time on the lips, as his fingers teased what was to come. Between kisses, she said, "Please?"

That sexy smirk she'd always liked about his photos showed up, the dimple deep. He whispered, "Tell me that you're mine and you want me inside you."

"I'm yours." She felt the heat in her face grow. She never talked about sex to anyone, ever. It was something that had made her uncomfortable, but Antonio's kiss and the gleam in his eyes made her want to please him. She opened her mouth and said, "Please put your cock inside me."

He laughed huskily, triumphantly, and the sound made her heart beat faster.

A moment later, he entered her nether lips and it felt like he could reach her womb itself. Somehow her body stretched to accommodate all of him.

He kissed her again and teased her nipples, this time with him fully inside her.

Something within her snapped and she lost the ability to think. She moaned, but it was like she wasn't inside her body.

She was in heaven itself.

A wave of pleasure overtook her. She needed him, now and forever.

# Chapter 18

Everything looked amazing.

Kristin stood on her balcony and peeked around the corner of the tower, still in her nightgown. Her hair and makeup made her look like someone she had never been before, and the people of Avce wanted to see her.

She wished her mother was here to see her now. Perhaps she'd tell her that true love might not have happened for her parents, but that love was real. Kristin believed in it now that she'd met Antonio.

Horse's hooves clapped in the distance. From what Renee told her, there was a horse-drawn carriage at the gate, just for her.

Renee came out onto the balcony, with her makeup now done, and said, "Come inside. You'll see everything soon. You're the star."

"I can't believe all of this is happening." Kristin let her best friend take her hand and lead her inside.

Valentino designers waited for her to ensure she was perfect in the dress. Before they stepped back in the room, Kristin stopped and listened to her heart beat, faster and faster.

Today was her big day. She hugged her waist, closed her eyes and let the moment sink in. Tonight she'd be a princess, even if the vote took it from her. Her life had changed and she'd be married to a man she never could have imagined on her own. Renee then said, "I can. You deserve it."

"I don't feel like any of this is real." Kristin confided and turned toward her friend. Renee was her only link to her old life, not that she had much of one. "This feels like I'm living someone else's life right now."

Renee led her toward the food tray that was outside and poured them both a glass of water. She handed her a cup. "I've never seen you this happy."

Antonio was why she'd stayed. Last night in his arms she felt whole in a way she never had before. With him she had no doubt that she was where she was supposed to be. "He's amazing."

Renee laughed. "Amazing is your word for when you're very, very happy." She finished her water and put the glass down. "So yes, you deserve to get a happily-ever-after."

Kristin sipped more slowly. She needed to take everything in. Then she felt her hand tremble with the glass in her hand. "Will you come and visit me? You're the closest thing I have to a sister, Renee."

Renee took the shaking water glass before Kristin dropped it. "Are you joking? My students will never believe I spent the summer here, and participated in your wedding. I don't think video evidence will get more than a "that's cool, Miss Brown" response, so yes, I'll visit whenever I can."

The blare of music from the street echoed around them. Her face heated. "Do the trumpets mean I'm late?"

Renee opened the balcony door. "Let's get you into your Cinderella dress and get going. Antonio's waiting for you."

Her thoughts returned to Antonio. His dark hair, brown eyes with those flecks of green made her ache for his strong arms to hold her again. Before they walked inside, she said, "He's handsome. How are things with Marco?"

Renee's face drained of color but then she held up her head. "He's fun, but I'm leaving in the morning when you go on your honeymoon."

Kristin's shoulders slumped. "I was hoping he would sweep you off your feet and you'd be my real sister."

"Now that sounds like a fairy tale." Renee led her to the designers. "It's time to be the bride."

The word bride rang in her ears. She never thought she'd be one and never imagined anyone in the world might care who she married. Once she walked outside she'd be streamed live for the world to see. Renee went to designers who helped her put on her maid-of-honor pink dress.

Kristin couldn't watch as designers added layers of white around her, but she peeked at her friend who looked sweet in that pink Valentino dress.

Then the doors to her bedroom opened and Queen Anna Camilla swooped in. Kristin's stomach twisted as she thought she was late. "Your Highness, they are tying me into this thing as fast as they can."

"You are to call me Anna." The queen's gold and blue ballgown screamed that she was the most important person in the realm.

Kristin sucked in her bottom lip and shook her head. "That will take a while. You're a queen."

Anna circled her, her arms crossed as she checked out the bridal gown. She nodded at the end and met Kristin's stare. "And my son is waiting to marry you, which means soon you'll be my daughter."

"I hope I do you justice today." Kristin lowered her lashes.

The designer stepped away so nothing was between them now. Anna came closer, brushed her shoulders, and fixed the heirloom necklace that Kristin wore as something borrowed. "You already do, but you'll have to forgive me when tomorrow I start the 'when will you make me a grandmother campaign.'"

For the second time, Anna made her laugh. She wanted to go forward with her, but she stayed still as the designer adjusted the back of her dress. Kristin ignored the designer for that moment and tilted her head. "Let me marry Antonio first."

"Is she ready?" Queen Anna Camilla stated in a way that a few hundred years ago if someone answered no they'd probably lose their heads.

The designer backed away and bowed. "Yes, Your Highness."

The queen then looped her arm with hers and walked her to the door. Renee followed behind them holding the flowers while the queen told Kristin, "Proceed down the grand stair case alone. Don't trip—hold your dress as you go down. Every ten steps there is a level step that's elongated. Stop and wave and if you see a camera, smile brightly. Once you make it down, walk into the carriage. Then as the horses bring you forward, wave at the crowds on both sides of you. Don't favor one side."

Half the directions became jumbled in her head. Walk, stop and wave were all she processed. Kristin felt more adrenaline rushing through her, but she tried to hold still. "What if I mess up?"

"So what if you do?" Queen Anna let her arm go at the top of the stairs and stepped back. "As long as you get to the church and say _I do_ to my son."

Kristin hugged her. Antonio's mother must be where he got his personality from because underneath all the pomp, she was caring and devoted. She let her go and asked, "Where will you be?"

"In the black limo in front. You're going to be great." Queen Anna then turned toward her friend. "Renee, you'll come with me as Kristin does her thing."

Renee nodded and then handed Kristin a small bouquet of roses that were designed for her walk down the stairs. Kristin remembered the drill. At the church she'd get her bridal bouquet. She accepted the flowers and Renee told her, "Think about Antonio and how you are about to be his. Meditate on his face. You'll be awesome."

"Thank you." Kristin looked at the huge flight of stairs she was to walk down. She admitted quietly, "This part is slightly terrifying."

"Antonio is at the end. Don't lose faith." Renee backed away.

"Got it." Kristin told her, but then the trumpets blared.

Someone outside said, "Presenting Kristin Wells, soon to be the Crown Princess of Avce. May God grant her a long life, and with our lady's divine help, may the family continue to bless all of us."

Kristin almost tripped on the first step. No one saw, but she left the shadow and made it to the light. On the first level, she stopped and waved.

An image of Antonio's smile played in her mind and she thought about last night and the night before that. Once she made it through this, she'd be in his arms again.

She proceeded down the next flight and smiled again with a wave. Despite the bright lights, she made her way down the steps and into the carriage. With every step she went one more inch toward believing love existed.

# Chapter 19

Antonio carried his tuxedo jacket into the groom's quarters of the church and draped it over a chair. His fiancé was soon to be his wife, who was about to be a princess. It would take a while to make it through the throng of people who wanted to see her.

He heard laughter in the next room and knocked on the door. He hugged his brother, who'd arrived late last night. "Lucio, good to have both of my brothers here."

Lucio patted Marco on the back and said, "Marco said the woman you found online was worthy."

Lucio had no idea. To him, Kristin was the best thing that he'd ever found and he'd not lose her, not now. "Worthy? Lucio, she's the best wife I could have possibly found."

Lucio wrung his hands together and paled. "I have nine months left. If my method fails, I may ask for your backup."

With the Internet, everyone's secrets and who they truly are were there to be data-mined. He hadn't believed his computer technicians during that initial proposal meeting 60 days ago himself, but he'd been desperate. Now he wanted to sponsor everyone to use the technology to find their match. It had worked for him. He kept his words short though. "Tomorrow, if we're still princes, set up a meeting with IT. Answer every question, both of you."

Lucio shook his head, as if not ready to hear it. "Let's get through this day and get you married." He then poured everyone glasses of water as the champagne was for the rest of the day, after the wedding. As he handed Antonio a glass, Lucio said, "Mother likes her, from what I understand. That has to make things easier."

Antonio hadn't considered his mother's possible disapproval. He stared into the dark eyes of his brother and said, "Strange thing to say Lucio. Did mother not approve of one of your dates?"

"That was a long time ago, as a teenager." Lucio drank his water.

Trumpets blared and Marco gulped his glass, stood and announced, "Mother and Father are here."

Antonio and Lucio followed Marco's lead and put their glasses down. A moment later, their parents entered the church. His father leaned on his mother for support now that they were inside, because the march in must have drained him.

Antonio saw how much his father had improved and prayed for continued good health. He opened the door wider for his parents to join him in the private room.

The moment they walked inside, his mother placed her hand on his cheek and did the same to his brothers. "My handsome sons." She then focused on him again and music played in the church, as if on cue. "Antonio, let's go take your place."

Antonio stayed still for a moment and then asked, "Mother what happens if we lost the vote and people want us to leave?"

She shrugged. "Then we leave for England and you're free to live a life with your Kristin, but I wouldn't hold any hope for that. This has been our home since your father's ancestors left Rome and founded this church and our kingdom. We never belonged in that English estate. We belong here and we were granted this from land as our destiny. There were miracles."

"Yes, when Mary made it snow here. We know the story." History was an easy subject to fall back on as Antonio thought that perhaps their mother was right. Maybe the intrigue was all because of jealous peers and now the people of their kingdom could be heard.

She nudged his shoulder. "Go."

Antonio nodded and crooked his elbow. "We're going." It was time to ensure everyone was in place by the altar. "Walk with me, Father. Lucio, get Mother."

Lucio held out his arm for their mother who asked, "Lucio, before we go, why did you suspect Sophia?"

Antonio stopped and listened.

"In England?" Lucio spoke cooly. "She helped you end things with Sabrina."

Their mother's face went white. "She wasn't right for you, son."

Lucio met Antonio's curious gaze then looked away. "Mother, let's not get into this. You never saw Sophia for who she truly was—I did."

Now was not the time for Antonio to ask more. Antonio and his father waited at the door for their cue. "Father, when did you know that Mother would be the "right" one to marry?"

"After working with her for twenty-four hours." His father's laugh made him look twenty years younger. "No one had ever dared speak to me like she had and everything she said about me was right. I knew I needed her honest and lovely face in my life, more than I needed water or food."

Right. In his gut Antonio had known Kristin was the one for him as soon as she'd kept her cool after dropping her purse. The wedding planner, Maria, held up her hand. Ten seconds. Antonio quickly said, "If Kristin and I are as happy as you both are then I'm truly blessed."

"Good luck, son."

The music started.

They marched down the aisle as monarch and future monarch.

Cameras were on them both the entire time, and Antonio held his breath and tried to smile for the camera as best he could.

His father sat with his mother in the front pew.

Then Marco walked Renee, demure and pretty in soft pink, down the aisle to the dais.

Finally Kristin, dressed all in white, appeared like an angel in the distance. His skin grew goosebumps and his heart raced. Her dark hair piled on top of her hair, a curl looping over her shoulder, her essence radiant. She walked herself down the aisle and held his eyes the entire way. Confident. Once she joined him, he brushed his hand against hers. "You take my breath away, Kristin."

"I made it to you." She smiled, her breaths short as if she'd run a marathon.

The priest performed the ceremony, and Antonio couldn't keep his eyes off Kristin. She truly was the one. He felt a tear form in his eye but he wiped that away.

The priest then said, "If anyone has any just cause why these two should not be wed, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

Silence clung to the room. The priest then said another prayer and Kristin whispered, "I was afraid someone was going to speak."

"I'd not let them." He brushed his hand against hers. If she wasn't holding those flowers, he'd have held her hand.

She whispered, "Now that I believe."

The priest looked at Antonio like he was an errant school boy. "Repeat after me. I, His Royal Highness, Prince Antonio Cosimo Francesco Gastone Giuliano Piero Lorenzo Aussa of the House of Lukčeva, take you, Kristin Wells, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."

Kristin whispered, "That's quite a long list of names."

Antonio broke tradition and took her hands in his though she held that huge bouquet still. "I, His Royal Highness, Prince Antonio Cosimo Francesco Gastone Giuliano Piero Lorenzo Aussa of the House of Lukčeva, take you, Kristin Wells, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."

Kristin's pure joy was all he ever wanted to see.

The priest then turned to Kristin and said, "Now Ms. Wells, please repeat after me, I, Kristin Wells, take you, His Royal Highness, Prince Antonio Cosimo Francesco Gastone Giuliano Piero Lorenzo Aussa of the House of Lukčeva, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."

Kristin's hands shook and she listened to every word the priest said then repeated, "I, Kristin Wells, take you, His Royal Highness, Prince Antonio Cosimo..." She looked like she was about to cry as she tried to say all his names, but he mouthed to her when she faltered. "Francesco Gastone Giuliano Piero Lorenzo Aussa of the House of Lukčeva, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."

She took a deep breath the moment she finished and her hands stopped shaking. He whispered, "Good job."

"I was terrified." She whispered back as the priest said another prayer.

He winked at her. "Did I mention we have to name our son Cosimo Francesco?"

She glanced at the priest again, but whispered, "We'll discuss that later."

He kept his hands to his side, though it was so hard. Finally the priest made it to the end. "By the power given to me by the law of the Kanal in Avce, I declare you husband and wife." Everyone in the church clapped. The priest then said, "You may kiss the bride."

She handed her flowers to Renee, and then he wrapped his arms around her tight and kissed her.

An eruption of cheers exploded behind them. Antonio ended the fast kiss, but kept his arms around her while the priest said, "I present to you the newly wedded couple, Prince and Princess Antonio Cosimo Francesco Gastone Giuliano Piero Lorenzo Aussa of the House of Lukčeva."

She shook her head a little. "I hope I don't have to memorize that in the next hour."

He kissed her cheek and chuckled. "Kristin, in your interview you mentioned being a fast learner. I'm sure you can."

She smiled at him and he felt like a conquering knight who'd finally come home. Kristin was his home and all he needed.

# Chapter 20

"The vote is in." Marco joined Antonio and Lucio on the makeshift dais in the large ballroom while their mother and father spoke to Kristin across the room. Marco took the microphone and announced, "99% of the country wants us to stay."

The ballroom full of people cheered.

Antonio tapped his glass with Lucio, who said, "Mother was right again."

Antonio stared across the room. Kristin lifted her glass in celebration. Tonight, Kristin was his, and tomorrow they would take a much needed honeymoon/vacation. Warmth filled him. He told his brother, "Kristin and I will enjoy being spectators at your wedding soon, Lucio."

Lucio lowered his voice. "I met with your IT department. That's quite a long list of things they want to know."

Good. If Antonio could find the one he wanted then anything was possible. "They're thorough."

Lucio looked like he might be sick. "I'll do my duty for my family, always."

Antonio smiled as Kristin waved at him. He patted his brother on the back. "Great, now it's time to dance with my wife. She's waiting for me."

"Have fun," Lucio said, but Antonio could tell that his brother felt about to be put in front of the firing squad.

Lucio's story was for tomorrow. Right now, Antonio tugged Kristin into his arms and kissed her. He had everything.

_Thank you for reading._ I hope you enjoyed Antonio and Kristin as much as I did. The next book the the Princes of Avce novel, you'll get way more into what happened with Kristin's best friend Renee and Antonio's brother, Marco. Order Forbidden Prince now.

And to find out about new books, sign up for my newsletter: <https://victoriapinder.com>
Renee Brown ordered a pepperoni pizza on her phone app, her attention snagged by the brilliant orange and red hues outside the kitchen window and over the parking lot. Where was Kristin? Her roommate was late, and Renee wanted to hear all about the sexy prince and Kristin's job interview.

If Kristin landed the secretarial position, Renee would be one step closer to meeting actual royalty. Would the pictures of Marco Aussa, the youngest prince of Avce, turn out to be tricks of the light? There was no possible way a man that handsome existed. And a prince!

Renee taught history for a living—and never had her blood stirred at a photo in a book as it had perusing Marco Aussa online.

With one last look out at the parking lot, still no Kristin, Renee went to the kitchen and gathered lettuce, spinach, cucumbers, and tomatoes. If she met a prince on her summer vacation from work, she'd have the best story to share with her coworkers.

She glanced out the window again and saw her neighbor, Greg, working on his car. He was the kind of guy she could bring home to meet her brother and parents. Good-looking, an accountant with a decent job—better than average pay but nothing flashy—handy around the building, and polite. If he asked her out, she'd have said yes simply because he was everything she'd put on her list. He wasn't the kind her parents would dismiss. However, he never noticed her, so that wasn't going to happen.

The salad needed something else...Renee found some celery behind a tub of cottage cheese and chopped it in thin slices.

The lock to the apartment clicked. Renee looked up from salad making and greeted her best friend in the world, the dark-haired and fabulous Kristin. "Where were you? I already ordered the pizza."

Kristin put her pocketbook on the lamp table by the door and kicked off the black heels she'd borrowed from Renee, then joined her at the counter. "You know I had my job interview with the Royal Prince Antonio Aussa from Avce this afternoon."

Renee studied Kristin, who wouldn't meet her eye. Had she gotten the job? Renee's pulse zipped to find out if she'd get a shot at seeing the youngest playboy prince in person. She put the salad tongs down. "That was at three. You're late."

Kristin went to the refrigerator and took out the orange juice, pouring a small glass. "I was driving around aimlessly."

Yes, something important must've happened—Kristin always had a plan. Renee's chances of meeting Marco were about as good as winning the Powerball but she wanted to know. She picked up the salad tongs and tossed the vegetables in a blue plastic bowl to mix the ingredients. "Why? Did you get the position?"

Kristin put the juice on the counter and hugged her waist. Oh, no. Renee turned toward her friend. What if she'd been driving because she was upset about _not_ getting the job?

A few weeks ago, when Kristin had first applied, they'd joked about marrying two of the prince brothers. Kristin's white face made Renee's memory seem sad now. "I'm..." _sorry._

Finally, Kristin looked up with a dazed expression. "He asked me to marry him."

No way. Was she kidding? Her heart beat faster. Renee dropped the salad tongs on top of the romaine. "Shut the door."

Kristin turned her head toward the front door. "I did."

" _Slang_. You have got to enter the 21st century." Renee reached out and took her hand. Joking aside, her only big plans this summer were book-related as she prepped to teach her history class and she could do that anywhere. Now she had a reason to buy a plane ticket and go to Europe. "When do you start? Will it be in Europe?"

Kristin seemed confused.

Renee slowly realized that she wasn't joking. "Seriously? He asked you to marry him?" Crazy.

"Yes." Kristin's gaze lowered. "And I'm tempted to agree."

Renee's heart hammered. "I saw your application for secretary...did he take one look at you and fall in love?"

Kristin shook her head. "Not love. That doesn't happen and never lasts anyhow."

"Well, nothing is ever a _sure_ thing." She'd thought her ex, Tom, had been solid but he'd left her high and dry, something her family never let her forget.

As if reading her mind, Kristin said, "To be fair to your parents, I never liked Tom. He always seemed like he was up to something." "Don't agree with them on anything." Renee gave Kristin a warning look.

One day a man like Greg would ask Renee to marry him and she'd bring him home. This time, she'd make the smart choice and her family would be excited to see her get married in their country club. But Kristin didn't have any of that responsibility. She was free and now she could marry a prince, for real.

"Your break-up with Tom is another reason why I think love is a sick joke we play on children and teenagers. It's a lie bigger than Santa Claus."

Her friend might not believe in love, but she deserved a fairy tale.

"That's cynical and untrue—love can last a lifetime." Renee squeezed Kristin's hands. Her parents claimed to love each other, so at least Renee had a basis for understanding. "So what _did_ you say?"

Kristin stepped back but kept her head down. "I told him that I needed time to think. Part of me was so mesmerized by him that I almost said yes, but my parents warned me all my life that work and security would bring me happiness more than romance. Marrying a prince I just met isn't exactly practical."

Renee laughed. Seriously, work was nice, but it was family that made every day worthwhile. One day she'd have her own, but first she needed to find the right guy. She nudged her best friend. "If a prince with billions of dollars knocked on my door and asked me to marry him, I'd say yes."

"Tell me that's not why you said yes to Tom."

"Tom was nice. I don't know what happened." Renee's phone beeped. The text read that the pizza would be there in fifteen minutes.

"So you say I should say _yes_ ," Kristin perched on the kitchen stool next to the island and drank her juice. "Just like that?"

"Absolutely." Renee finished with the salad and kept the rest of her comments to herself. In reality, a prince would never be approved by her parents, who had strict ideas for happiness. Not a big deal since she wasn't the one who'd been asked.

With a sigh Kristin stood, left her phone on the counter in the kitchen and went to the cabinet to get cups and plates. "No. No, you wouldn't. You'd see through the BS, and wonder if there were any cameras taping you."

True. Renee walked out of the kitchen and put the salad bowl in the middle of the dining room table. "Oh, were you bamboozled in some awful prank I'll get to see on TV?"

"No." Kristin followed her out with the plates, centering each on a placemat. "He asked me, for real. I just feel like I was being played, like maybe I'm missing something."

Renee leaned against the table and crossed her arms. "Why does he want to marry you? Did you ask that?"

"Yes." Kristin went to the wine cooler. "He listed off my resume and personal information. It seems like I would benefit from the deal. I should have insisted that a secretary application wasn't a prescription for finding a wife. I feel so foolish now."

"Pour some wine for both of us and we'll talk all about how you should be a princess." Being best friends with royalty who'd interact with the hot playboy prince would give Renee a shot at a dream—these days, Marco figured prominently. "And I can be a princess's best friend." Daydreams like this often made the boring reality of her day-to-day more palatable.

Once Kristin was done pouring, she brought the bottle to the table. "Yeah, I've not been anyone's princess since my father walked out on my mother when I was eight. When he returned home six months later, neither of them was happy. They never really conversed again. You have no idea what it's like to grow up knowing your parents hate each other while they sit right next to you and speak through you."

No, she had no idea. Kristin handed her a glass of wine. Her parents were like those people on TV who live and _love_ living in the suburbs. They hadn't understood when she'd moved to the city, and they'd not know what to do if she brought home a prince.

Renee clicked her glass with her friend and sipped. "Well, that was depressing. So let's lighten up, and you can tell me if he's as hot in real life as he is in your photos."

Kristin took a small drink and sat with her elbow on the table. "Renee, he's hotter. TV and photos...I don't know...make him somehow blander. He's sexy in such a raw powerful way that I was shaken up. I wasn't kidding—I almost said yes to his marriage proposal on the spot."

Antonio was the serious family member that Kristin dug. If Marco's dimples were even hotter in person, she might just offer to throw her clothes off and let him have her. And yes her fantasy was out of control today. "What exactly made you say 'you'd think about it?'"

Kristin swallowed her wine, emptying her glass. "Self-preservation kicked in."

"What are you talking about?"

Kristin lifted her chin. "Despite how attractive he is, I want love to be at least part of why I get married which is utterly stupid as I don't believe the emotion even exists."

Renee scoffed. "Then marry Greg in our building. He's clearly in love with you, if that's what you want."

"No, I'm not into him at all."

Just then the doorbell rang. She put the glass down. Tonight was Renee's turn to pay. "That's the pizza! Can you get the door while I go find my pocketbook for the tip?"

"It's my turn to pay," Kristin insisted.

Renee stopped. Perhaps she'd bought last night. Kristin raced into the kitchen.

Renee walked to the door, swung it open and stared into deep brown eyes. Wow. This was the prince that made her friend's heart stir. If he'd seriously asked Kristin to marry him, then she needed to say yes. Now. Renee crossed her arms. "Nice to meet you, Your Highness."

"I'm looking for Kristin Wells." He took a small step closer, trying not to be obvious as he peered in.

Renee held the door wider and said, "I'm hoping she says yes."

Antonio Aussa, the older brother of her celebrity crush, raised his eyebrows, but followed her inside.

A moment later, Kristin walked out and stared at Prince Antonio.

"You didn't tell me that the prince was..." Renee began but realized neither one of them were listening.

"What?" Kristin asked and blinked though she never turned away from staring at Antonio.

"...coming." Renee finished and wondered how it would be to meet this man's younger, sexier brother. If only. For this one summer, she was free and it would be nice to see someone like Marco before she settled into the suburbs and raised children for a man her parents would go golfing with.

Kristin asked, "Your Highness, what are you doing here?"

Why hadn't her best friend dragged her almost fiancé into her bedroom? If their roles were switched, and it was Marco at the door, Renee would have, just for fun.

Her future required settling down to please her parents, if she wanted to be included in their circle, just as surely as her brother would marry a perfectly acceptable country club girl.

Antonio went toward her friend. "Kristin, I hope I'm not intruding."

Right, if her friend didn't want to take him to her room, it was Renee's turn to leave. She eyed her bedroom door. "I'll give you a few minutes and head to my room."

Renee closed the door behind her. What would the prince think of their simple apartment? The same boring cream paint was on all of the walls. She'd framed movie pictures for art but the décor was definitely teacher on a budget. Her phone dinged—the pizza was delayed, according to the app. Trying to give Kristin and the prince privacy in the small apartment, she turned her attention to Greg and sent him a text. He might not notice her, but perhaps one of his friends might be good enough to take home for the holidays or something. _'Greg, saw you at your car engine. Everything okay?'_

_'Yeah, I'm just changing the oil.'_ He texted back. _'I saw you and Kristin have a guy over.'_

_'Kristin has the guy, else I'd not be texting you at the moment.'_

_'Hope he's good enough for her.'_

The zap of jealousy shouldn't exist. This was why she needed to keep her distance from Greg. _'I hope Kristin likes this one. She deserves to be happy. If you need anything, text.'_

_'Thanks.'_

She'd covered plastic bins that she used as a dresser with scarves and now peered into the small mirror on top to fix her hair. Brown eyes stared back, the beginnings of fine lines at the corners.

Renee wasn't getting any younger, as her mother would say. And that voice echoed in her mind. One day she'd find her suburban husband who fixed her car and not think about Greg or anyone else.

She checked on the pizza and the driver was on their small street. She went toward the door and overheard Antonio tell her friend, "I was hoping you might accompany me. I'll give you a tour, take you to my favorite restaurant to get dinner. Show you my country."

Without a second thought, Renee twisted the knob and opened her door. Kristin would need her friend at her side.

"Can I come?" Renee's voice echoed through the apartment. Both of them stared at her in surprise.

Kristin called over his shoulder. "Renee, I thought you were giving us some privacy?"

Renee waved her phone in the air, reminding Kristin that they'd ordered pizza. But just in case Kristin didn't want to divulge their plans, she gestured to the counter. "I was looking for my headphones."

Her phone beeped, a sixty second warning to go get the pizza, which would also give Kristin more time alone. Renee walked into the foyer area and grabbed her purse. "Your Highness, my friend Kristin gets scared of good things happening in her life. Her parents taught her to always look for security first. It robs her of spontaneity sometimes."

Kristin placed her hand on her chest. "No I don't."

Antonio stroked his chin. "Kristin, if it would make you happy, you and your friend, Renee, are welcome to join me in my private jet."

Yes! Renee opened the front door and backed out of the apartment. "Okay. Can we get ten minutes to pack? I'll be right back..."

She closed the door on Antonio's confused face and met the delivery guy at the curb. The pizza wasn't necessary anymore. She tipped anyhow and held the box in her hand.

Now what? _Greg_. She raced downstairs and knocked on Greg's door. He opened it without his shirt on. His slim figure would make whoever he married happy, but she had no time to gawk. She offered him the pizza. "We can't eat this and I thought you might be hungry."

"Really? Let me pay you for it."

"No. I have to go. We're leaving for a few days. Can you watch our door and check the mail?"

"No problem." Greg balanced the box on one palm. "Glad we're friends, Renee."

Friends. Right.

She rushed up the stairs and back inside the apartment. Antonio said, "Remember, the royal palace has everything you might possibly need."

Renee gave the thumbs up sign. "I'll be back in ten. I've never ridden in a private jet to Europe."

What would she pack? She was about to meet her celebrity crush. She found her bag and slipped in all her sexy underwear. Just in case. If Marco couldn't be tempted, then she'd see the countryside, take pictures and do something completely unplanned: she wouldn't think about her parents, or their expectations. This summer, she'd stay in a palace, encourage Kristin to be happy and build up a store of memories to keep her warm on a far off cold night as she lay next to some anonymous man like Greg.

**OrderForbidden Prince now.**

# Hidden Gabriel
# Chapter 1

Erica Mira's shoulders tightened. The tree branch spun on the road. She blinked. That wasn't natural. The word _mom_ brought her back. The snowstorm outside matched Erica's heartbeat. "What happened?" she said into the phone.

"The stem cell therapy began today, and your mother is feeling weak from her chemotherapy."

Erica's car took far too long to trudge ahead, and the steering wheel locked a bit. Her mother wouldn't want her to get stuck in middle-of-nowhere, Maine. However, Erica needed money to pay for her mother's medical bills. Cancer sucked. "I should go. I'll call her the second I find a hotel."

"Excellent. Are you on time for your meeting?"

The car skidded. Her heart raced, and she clutched the wheel.

"Ms. Mira?"

Erica steadied the car but held her breath.

"Is everything okay, boss?"

Erica's shoulders tightened. "This was a bad idea. I shouldn't be driving in this storm."

Adrenaline pumped through her veins. She increased the speed of her wipers and hoped that her vision would somehow improve. It didn't. Then she opened the window to help visibility. The wind bit at her nose, and she rolled it up fast.

She shook her head and yawned. The road visibility grew worse every time she blinked. She couldn't see beyond her headlights. She gripped the wheel tighter. "Where were we?"

"Ms. Mira, you're breaking up. Are you okay?"

"I have to be." Erica's heart beat wildly, but she stayed on the road. "The investors wouldn't have called me up to the backwoods of Maine to sign papers in the middle of winter if they weren't going to support my bid for the factory."

Her secretary shouted, "Hello?"

The wind hissed, and thunder cracked in the air. Goose bumps erupted on Erica's skin. She had no choice but to keep going. "What did Mom's doctor say to you?" Her knuckles turned white.

"I'll call tomorrow morning. I can't hear anything."

Erica clicked the phone off. The bleakness of the snow-covered mountains was bad. Where was this hotel? Had the GPS lied? The empty, dark road held no solutions. Her heart raced. She tried to use reason to calm herself down. All she had in this world was her mother. Cancer could _not_ break up her family, and neither would a winter storm. "I love you, Mom."

The wind howled, and the traction of the car became lighter. Erica bit her lip; then the car spun.

She screamed and stepped on the gas.

The wheels squealed. The high pitch pierced her eardrums. Without another thought, she stepped on the brake.

_Boom._

An airbag knocked her back. The car continued to spin. Her head hurt, but she clutched the steering wheel.

Tears formed in her eyes. _I'm going to die._

The wind howled, but everything else was eerily calm.

She blinked. The car was mangled metal, and the hiss of the engine roared in her ears. She sucked in a breath. Would there be a fire? She screamed. Smoke came from the engine. She had to get out. Now. No, wait.

Irrational reaction never solved a problem. She should back up the car. Her heartbeat thumped.

_Mom, I will be there._ Erica switched to reverse and tried to turn. The car hissed and smoke fed into the air.

_Whoosh._

She needed to get out. Smoke forced her eyes to tear up. Erica struggled to get her seat belt off. The door handle fought back and didn't work.

Her teeth chattered.

A tree had sheared the hood of her car, and the engine steamed.

She refused to die in an inferno as she pictured in her mind. She had only seconds to escape. Her hands shook, and she tried to push at the door to stand.

Every breath came choppy and harder. Was smoke now inside?

Her eyes misted. She shoved at the door. It didn't budge.

Her hands trembled, and she closed her eyes. How would her sister, Kimberly, know to help Mom? Erica opened her eyes and tried the handle again. This time the door opened, and she took a deep breath.

_Hiss_.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she jumped out of the car.

The wind had tentacles of ice. Erica's thin gloves weren't much help. She gasped and ran her hands through her dark hair.

The storm howled so loudly in her ears.

She lifted her chin. Panic never helped anyone, and in this storm she'd need her wits.

Nine-one-one worked out here. The police or fire department would find her.

She grabbed her phone. No signal. Had she ruined it in the crash? She powered down the phone to give it a moment.

Alone, as usual. Erica put her hand over her heart, and she took a few deep breaths, peering through the gray, dark fog that had settled on the dead forest.

The storm would get far worse, and fast.

She zipped her thin plastic coat all the way. Erica refused to give in to dark thoughts, and concentrated instead on one good thing. She snapped her fingers. Her driving gloves weren't that thick. At least she'd worn her jeans to drive. The people at the car rental place in Boston had warned her of a blizzard. She bit her lip.

Her ears went numb.

Above the trees, the storm clouds shifted and allowed her to gaze halfway up a mountain. She did a double take and rubbed the back of her neck. A huge mansion, or hotel, or some large, all-white building became visible. Was it the hotel on the GPS? She rubbed her eyes. The huge house was the answer, though every window was dark. Was this a trick of her mind, or did visions happen only in deserts?

This drive up to Maine in a storm had been desperate and stupid. She had no idea what to do now. She swallowed, and ice rushed into her lungs. The wind howled, and she shivered. She should have bought a ski jacket. Winter sucked. She'd never seen snow until this trip, and now she wanted the warm beaches of Miami back.

The cold seeped into her skin. Her fingers shook as she took the keys out of the hissing car. She reached for her pocketbook. Would the car blow up? She took a step back, and the car went quiet.

Then she turned on her phone and tried again. No service. She bit her lower lip and stared up the mountain. The night was black, as the snow-laden clouds hid the moon completely from sight. She racked her brain. The mansion was halfway up on some sort of ledge.

Then the wind and the fog blocked everything, and the house was no longer visible.

She turned back to her car. Should she wait? She doubted anyone drove on this road. She'd be found frozen in the spring.

No. Her mother needed her. She'd not seen any other cars in the past few hours, and no one would come to help her. An abandoned house or hotel still would have supplies to survive this.

Something wet brushed her face. She blinked, and it happened again. It was too cold to be rain. Then she saw her breath in a cloud. The snowflakes now seemed heavier.

If she waited, she'd die.

Her gaze took in everything. The darkness made the white snow appear worse than a gun in her face. The dead trees closer to the road gave no signs of shelter. The winds howled through the evergreen forest and caused another shiver down through her sneakers. Her limbs were nearly frozen already. She took a step and almost fell. Her toes were numb.

She swallowed hard. She grabbed her pocketbook and began hiking up the road. Her feet became so cold that the mechanics of every step took all her strength.

Her fingers iced inside her gloves. She closed her eyes and imagined a fire. Someone had to live in that huge place. To warm herself, she blew on her gloves, not that it helped. The ground underneath her feet became more jagged. She must have made her way up past the embankment of the paved road.

She almost turned back to stare at how far she'd gone, but the cold, wet snow melted on her neck to remind her she needed shelter fast.

The fog almost tricked her senses into believing that the storm wasn't that bad. Her teeth chattered. Ice settled on her eyelashes as she reached the top of the road.

Erica shivered and hugged herself. She narrowed her eyes and surveyed her surroundings. Then her heart lifted out of her chest. Halfway up the mountain and to her right sat the huge chateau. Climbing up the small mountain was her only solution.

She'd been right.

A place like that would have a working phone or computer.

She'd have to climb through half the dead trees and through the evergreen forest to get there, but hiking the mountain couldn't be that bad. She swore her legs were still attached to her body. In pictures, people made mountains look beautiful.

She stared down the road. The thick fog made the bottom of the hill disappear. Erica rolled her shoulders. She had no other option.

Her icy hands reminded her she didn't have much time. She turned to start up the mountain as fast as she could. She was wearing running shoes, not boots made for ice, and every step became more slippery while the wind pelted her.

She slipped again and fell to her knees. The water on her limbs made her feel everything, but she kept up her march. The snowy bottom cushioned her falls, but she had to climb.

The mansion didn't have any lights on.

Erica willed her legs to continue and took another step. Then another. Even if the darkness inside the building remained, she'd have a better chance inside than out.

A smile grew on her face. In the warmth of Miami, she'd never wish for snow again.

She lost the sensation in her fingers. The wind lashed her skin. To find a second of warmth, she rubbed her hands on her legs, but she kept on her forward trek. The snow hit hard, more like ice. It was worse than snow. Did snow freeze too?

With her gaze on the ground, she stumbled a few times but dragged herself up, determined to keep going. She refused to succumb to the dense fog that became so thick she couldn't see her hands. Erica Mira would not die in the middle of nowhere without leaving her mark on this world. She'd not leave her mother alone in this world. She had to keep trudging through this mess. Her sister had already abandoned both of them.

The massive building sat in the field across from her. The white walls reflected off the moon that peaked through the storm. The mansion was at least three floors, with big windows and no lights on inside.

A howl came from behind her.

Wolves? Her legs wanted to run, but she couldn't lift them. She ran her hands down her body, which was now just as numb as her feet. She rubbed her thighs to keep her circulation flowing. Salvation wasn't far now.

At the massive wooden door, she touched the doorbell, but it was frozen. The metal iced through her numbed fingers.

No noise greeted her ears. Had the bell rung?

Her heart raced again.

She banged, but she couldn't make much noise.

The wind chilled her blood even more.

Desperate, she turned the handle; the door opened. She stepped inside the black-as-night room. "Hello?"

Her voice echoed through the darkened hall. The walls kept the wind outside, but Erica's body trembled.

She stared above her and toward the walls and slowly her gaze adjusted. Dust rested on everything from the abandoned front desk to the picture frames. She stepped back, and her hand caught in cobwebs in the corner as she reached for electricity. She flipped the switch, but no light came on. She jumped, but her limbs were numb. The white marble floor appeared dull beneath its layer of dust. Marble wasn't good for her right now. Erica marched in place to stay warm.

A cold wind inched up her back from some unseen force. A dull light helped her see in the room. Beyond the lobby desk of the forgotten hotel was a grand room littered with linen-draped furniture, but it was the portrait of a beautiful blonde woman that captured her. The dust didn't dull the vividness in the portrait. The coldness in the blue eyes that stared at Erica sent chills through her body.

She wanted to run back outside, but she refused to die out there. She had to live. She breathed harder. With a gulp of air, she wished she had traveled with someone. Her chest was so heavy now, and every breath she took was a struggle. If she'd brought a friend or even her wayward sister, it would have made the dark, black, dirty windows less menacing.

There had to be a warmer room inside the house.

_Clack_.

She froze near the door, then jerked around. What was that? She ran her hands over her heart and tried to stop the panic in her chest. The wind or branches scraped the windows.

A shadow came closer. She pressed her lips together. "Hello?"

The noise had come from the back of the house. She withheld a scream and went toward the noise. She needed to find something warmer to stop the cold, but she had nowhere to go. The sound called to her soul.

Nothing stirred.

She blinked.

Her mind fogged up. Outside sent her brain into a tailspin. She needed warmth.

_Boom._

Her ears buzzed and registered the sound, and she clutched the doorknob.

_Crackle._

Fire. She let the handle go. Someone had started a fire. Her chest craved warmth. She'd live through this. She imagined a fireplace and headed toward the sound in the other room.

Pictures stared at her as she walked down the dark hall, so she bowed her head. She'd find the fireplace. She had to. She walked unsteadily until she reached double sliding doors. She pressed her trembling hands onto the wood and realized she walked on hardwood floors now. She slid open the doors and her chin jerked up. She stepped into a cozy room and smiled at the fire in the huge fireplace, with bookshelves all around. This place was her dream, and she fell to her knees.

The fire hypnotized her.

"Who the hell are you?" a male voice demanded from behind her.

She shivered, then turned to see. Who was this dark-haired man?

Her vision blurred. She narrowed her eyes and pushed past the black spots that swam in her vision. A well-built, muscular man with flannel pajama bottoms and dark, unkempt hair stood at a side door.

She rubbed her forehead. Her jaw chattered. "E . . . ri . . . ca."

"Who are you? Why are you in my house?"

"C . . . ol . . . d."

He tilted his head and stared hard at her with his almost black eyes. "Your clothes are soaking wet. How are you not dead?"

Her lips parted. She guessed he wouldn't throw her out to die. Her gaze went to the ceiling, then back to him. The man had the bone structure of an avenging angel statue seen in churches across the globe. She bowed her head. She blinked and stared at his big, full lips and square jaw. Angels were warm.

He stepped back. "I'll be right back."

She pressed her lips together and tried to tell him to stay. No words formed. He walked out another door at the other end of the room. She chewed her lip and collapsed fully on the floor. Her teeth chattered, and she shook her head. She wouldn't die, not now.

He'd left a mug of something hot on a nearby table. Her lips parted and she dragged herself to the table. Finally, she sniffed the drink. The smell seemed familiar, but her nose didn't seem to work. Who was he? What was he? She'd never seen such broad shoulders.

Another shiver escaped her. He could be a murderer. He could be on the phone with the police. Whoever he was, the thought of his brown eyes sent a thrill down her body. She sounded stupid to herself right now, and she ought to go, but that was not a choice given her situation.

She tried to stand and head toward the door, but she stumbled. Her feet were like lead. Instead, she dragged herself back to the drink, and the aroma of creamy hot chocolate filled her nostrils. Her fingers reached out for the cup.

Her hands trembled, but the warmth of the mug steadied her fingers. Finally, she lifted the glass and gulped some of the hot liquid.

She'd pay him back.

Then another shiver coursed through her body and she lost the ability to think again.

She struggled but managed to put the cup back on the table.

The unpaid bills on her coffee table at home floated through her mind.

Then she shook so badly that she fell backward, and her backside hit the floor. Her jeans were soaked. The ice inside her bones was so intensely cold.

The button of her jeans didn't want to release. She'd not dry if she was soaked. With a sigh, she managed to pull off her gloves and warm her hands by the fire.

He returned with a blanket and clothes. As he threw the blanket over her shoulders, a hint of pine and sandalwood tickled her nose, and he pulled her back to the couch. His tempting scent dissipated while she shook violently.

"Hold on, ma'am. You're not going to die on me. I've nowhere to bury you."

Bury her? Those words blasted in her ears while he took off her shoes. Her body continued to shake. She didn't stop him. Her body wasn't hers. Her vision dissipated into floating black circles. She blinked and even her eyelashes bore icicles. Her head was light.

He pulled off her wet sneakers.

Her heart beat faster.

He reached up to strip off her jacket, and again, she let him. It wasn't like she could struggle. He wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders, then went to her shirt buttons. She tried to nod, but she couldn't do more than stare at the ground.

_Would he rape her in a minute?_ Her breaths were heavier and took a harder toll on her, but even in a weakened state, she realized no. The dark-haired angel had helped her.

"Keep the blanket on, ma'am, or I can leave if you're able to dress yourself. But we need to get you out of your wet clothes before hypothermia kills you."

Her jaw chattered, and every moment grew worse. Her hands shook uncontrollably. "I c-c-can-n't."

He nodded. "I'll keep my eyes off you."

When he reached for her blouse to strip if off her shoulders, she frowned. Her gaze stayed cloudy. Naked near a stranger sounded like a bad idea, even if the man had those big, smoldering eyes. But her shoulders twitched the moment they were free from her wet clothes.

He dropped the shirt and jacket on her shoes and fixed the blanket tighter around her waist. "We have to get you dry and warm. You're not helping yourself. Just relax. I won't hurt you. But we need to get your jeans off next."

She shook her head, but her chest seemed warmer. Her teeth still chattered, though.

"Look to the couch. I brought you dry clothes and another blanket. You'll be warm."

_Doesn't mean you won't hurt me._ Her mind screamed out crazy thoughts. She had to trust him. She'd broken into his house. Her hand went to his arm, and the warmth burned into her. She nodded and swallowed.

He adjusted the blanket, then lifted her body up to yank off her jeans. Her body was limp and numb. If he raped her, she wouldn't feel anything.

He threw the jeans onto the heap and readjusted the blanket around her. She sighed as his skin brushed hers, and he shook his head. "You're soaked right through. It's time to get you dressed."

He reached for the red plaid clothes behind him. Whoever he was, he was her dark savior. Her body heat rose from his hands on her waist, and he picked her up to stand. She stumbled and had no balance. He kept her steady and struggled to unfold the red flannel plaid. The heat went through her, but she stared at him.

She burned when he slid his hands down her body to keep her on her feet.

In his arms, she became warmer than the fire, but her entire body was numb. He shook his head and stared at her forehead. A moment later, he picked her up to deposit her on the couch, next to the clothes.

"Your underwear and bra are soaked through. Are you able to finish this yourself?" He reached next to him to pick up the red warm flannel. Her eyes didn't quite take it in. "If you drop the blanket and reach up, we'll get this on you fast."

She struggled in her blanket and instead reached for her bra, but her fingers shook uncontrollably.

"Erica, whoever you are, put your hands up and get on this nightgown first. It will help you."

She heard her heavy breaths, but her body shook violently. Then she closed her eyes and dropped the blanket. Her breasts brushed against his chest for an instant, and then he took her hands in his to hold. Her eyes opened as he struggled to get her wrists inside the sleeves. She let out a snort and realized she needed to trust him the second the nightgown covered her.

"Can you get to your bra and underwear?"

She opened her mouth, but she couldn't make a sound.

He nodded, then reached behind her nightgown to unsnap her bra. "My wife used to wiggle her bra off and stay dressed."

_Used to._ Past tense. Her lips ached to kiss him, but Erica shook her head. She wasn't herself.

He gulped, reached inside the nightgown, and traced her legs to her underwear. If he had wanted to rape her, it would have been easier without the nightgown. Now, though, her legs had sparks of life from where he brushed her raw skin. A moment later, he tugged her cotton underwear down, and the cold wetness of the material chilled the sparks.

Freed from the cold, she pushed herself into his massive chest and broad shoulders and brushed her hands on his back.

"Hell. What are you doing?"

She licked her chapped lips. "W-warm . . . Y-y-you . . . you're h-ot," she managed.

As he hugged her for a moment, he closed his eyes. "Body heat will help you, I suppose."

He tucked her closer in his arms, and she breathed better. The man had an olive tone to his skin, and the smell of pine and sandalwood left her unable to think of anything else. His warmth stopped the insistent shivers that raced through her. The heat inside her grew warmer, but not entirely. She'd not lose him. Her brown-eyed angel made her body tingle. She jostled her hips and scooted right into his manhood. A lightness went through her and made her giddy. She traced his body with her fingers while he whispered in her ear, "Stop. Don't do that, sweetheart. I'm helping you."

Her muscles were awakened. Would sex warm her? She scooted backward. The question made no sense. The heat she had inside exploded every time she stared into his tantalizing brown eyes, and right now joining with him was all she could imagine. She rubbed her forehead. This was crazy. She made no sense to herself right now. Sex was not the answer.

Her hands trailed down his strong thigh. Unlike the rest of her family, Erica Mira never took chances. She never threw caution to the wind. Perhaps her near-death moment or how her knees buckled near this stranger drove her. She licked her parched lips and then decided to follow her instincts.

She pushed herself up to kiss this beautiful, dark stranger. His skin smelled of oak, and her body loosened to wrap herself closer to him while her lips found his. She sighed and pressed herself into him, and his mouth ravaged hers for a split second.

He stood up and wiped his lips. "You're delirious."

The fire inside her grew, though she couldn't speak. The desire in his eyes melted some of the ice.

"I've not been near a woman since my wife died." He turned away from her and stared into the fire. "And I don't take advantage of people."

Shivers ran through her without him next to her. She didn't even know the man's name, yet she had visions of his naked body in hers. She stared at his back and tried to take stock. She needed to survive. "Th-ank . . . y-you."

She sighed and waited for him to turn back around. Finally, he stared back at her, and it looked like he intended to say something. She opened her mouth and stared into his eyes. "I . . . I don't . . . kn-know y-our . . . n-name."

Her lips ached for another kiss. She shouldn't have pressed herself on him. He had been her angel. She closed her eyes and inhaled the wild, untamed forest on his skin as he sat down beside her.

He ran his hand down her arm and offered her a tender smile. "You can speak. That's good. I'm keeping you warm. No more deaths in this house."

Deaths? Her skin grew goose bumps. Her skin warmed from his hand on her arm. She sighed and knew her reaction to him made no sense. Her entire body shook, and coldness enveloped her again. But the warmth of him made her body relax. And she spoke without the chatter. "What's your name?"

"Gabriel."

A sigh escaped her lips, and she smiled. He was an angel. He sat them down on a small beige sofa.

She thought she heard a moan in the distance.

She swallowed and realized that tonight she wasn't herself. Outside, ice pelted the ground, and on her skin it had been heavier than rain. Now his fire kept her alive. She inhaled and again let the smell of sandalwood relax her. The outside forest had seeped into his skin, and she couldn't stop herself from the need to touch him.

He stepped back suddenly and without warning. Her hands shook, but he pulled away.

Her head ached. He stormed out of the room. Where was he going? What had she done?

A second later, he came back with a Santa hat.

He tugged it on her head and cracked a smile.

Her eyebrows rose, or at least she thought so. "Wh . . . y?"

With his eyes narrowed, he checked her temperature. "My mother would answer that eighty percent of all body heat escapes from the head. I've never looked that up, but it's why we wear hats when we go outside and to sleep in. This was the best I could think of."

Her angel took care of her.

When she could talk more, she'd thank him. For now, she closed her eyes and snuggled into his warm chest until she fell asleep.

Tomorrow, her problems would return, but tonight, she had a protector.

# Chapter 2

In the darkness, something banged. Erica ran her hand through her hair and adrenaline rushed through her body. Something brushed against her pillow. She opened her eyes and stared around the blue room. A Santa hat lay next to her head. Erica rubbed her arms. This was not the room with the books she'd stumbled into last night. A fire crackled, but nothing stirred near the door. Was there something in the wall? She sighed. The fire probably made the sound. Then she tugged her blanket up to her chin. Her neck was stiff and sore. Her mind pushed past the pain. Where was she?

Her hair itched. She put her hand up to her head. What was that? She shook it off and saw white strands of lace on her almost white fingers. The Santa hat must have shed. The angel had put that on her last night. She ran her fingers through her matted, tangled hair.

Who was the dark-haired man? And what was his name? He'd said it, but she couldn't remember much except his sandalwood scent.

She stared around her dark room at the pale blue walls. She blinked and leaned closer to the wall nearest her bed. The pale blue let the whiteness of the bedspread almost glisten, and the curved edges of the dresser shone to match the walls. Erica shrugged. It reminded her of a designer bedroom from a magazine. Her angel was all man, and unless he was gay, he had not decorated this room.

She closed her eyes and remembered his largeness, which had brushed against her. She smiled. He was definitely not gay.

She gazed around once more and decided she was in a woman's room. The angel's wife?

Did the handsome angel have people who lived here? A family? Children? And who lived in a desolate chateau, in the middle of winter in Maine, which might have been a hotel or ski resort? What sort of wife let her husband isolate her?

She sighed. She might remember wrong, and she shouldn't ask questions without facts.

And did he have a phone? She needed her mother.

_Arggh._

She blinked and sensed someone staring at her—from where? "Hello?"

Awareness grew in every fiber of her body. No answer came, and Erica tilted her head and stared at the wall. Why?

When she forced herself to sit up, the winds howled and pummeled the windows on the other side of the small room. She swallowed. The storm still blew. The walls likely echoed the winds. She scanned the room and tried to find the face of the man from her dreams. Had it been real? A deep voice that said "dead wife" replayed in her ears, while his big, brown, smoldering eyes held a flame of desire. The second he had stared as she was naked and vulnerable in front of him, she grew warmer.

Last night, she'd been half-crazy. Good girls never stood around for a man to gaze at, but then, Erica had never had time to be anything other than a good girl. Who had she been last night? The hysterics over body heat sounded like another woman. Her sister was her opposite, but Erica'd never disappear into thin air like Kimberly had. Erica threw the spread off her feet and squared her shoulders. Her mother depended on her.

The issues of life weighed down on her. She rocked on the soft daybed and took in her surroundings. Yep, this room was like in a magazine.

She shivered and grabbed the blanket to wrap around her body.

Heat had saved her.

Heat and the man.

Her limbs trembled at the memory. His well-formed body and callused hands had sent warmth through her when she'd been so cold. She closed her eyes and rubbed her throat. Dizziness overtook her thoughts. Had she fallen asleep in a stranger's arms? With a slight tremble, she steadied her nerves. Last night had been a strange, out-of-body experience.

Her muscles tensed. Where were her clothes? She rubbed her neck. Her cell phone? Her throat went dry. Could she make a call? Her mother's health was important. The doctors would give her an update. She caught sight of it on the dresser on the other side of the room.

She swallowed and stood, and the frozen floor sent a chill right up her legs.

Hardwood floors were warmer than the marble in the lobby, but the cold raced further up her legs. She glanced around and jogged in place. Her gaze narrowed in on a pair of slippers. They'd have to do. She jumped until she had her feet inside. Though her heels didn't fit into the cushioned leather, at least the slippers stopped the cold. She wore a warm flannel nightgown, a little too tight in her chest area, and it wasn't as long as needed. Her lower legs showed, but the nightgown covered more of her than a few of her outfits. Who had owned this? His dead wife? Why did she keep thinking about that?

If this was hers, the woman must have been small. The blonde in the portrait with the stormy blue eyes?

_Whish._

She jumped back.

With her palm pressed over her lips, she laughed off the wince. Had she become hypersensitive to the wind's howl outside?

Her stomach growled. Food always kept negative thoughts at bay. When was the last time she had eaten? On the plane yesterday morning? She took a deep breath. She could hold off. Right now, she ought to find out where she was and call home.

At the dresser, she checked her phone and turned it on. Her battery was low, and she had no service. She dialed her mother anyhow with a small hope. The phone never connected. She choked back her fears. To save what was left of the charge, she turned it off.

She kept the blanket wrapped around her as she opened the door to a large, drafty hallway. She made her way back towards what she hoped was the library. She needed to figure out where she was, and maybe the dark angel who had saved her had answers. If he had a family here, though, she needed to run away and never face that man ever again.

She never had thoughts about sex.

Romantic thoughts had no place in her sterile life. She was much too busy.

The silence in the room had held echoes of something else. Erica crossed her arms. The small living quarters held no pictures. Her mind took her dare and replayed the past. She closed her eyes and recalled strong shoulders, a muscular body, and dark, tortured eyes.

No. She'd not turn into that woman. She opened her eyes, racing down the hall. She passed another door, then a set of sliding doors. She shook her head and walked farther down the hall. She found the library and smiled.

The room was lined with portraits. The people wore mid–twentieth century clothing. The angel's parents? She blinked. The man in the frame had similar eyes, but they followed her around the room. Erica hugged herself. The fireplace still had embers. She hesitated. How far had she come last night? She walked through where? She slid the double doors open to check out the lobby. Frigid air rushed through her body. The lobby smelled of dust. She forced herself to ignore her itchy nose and continue towards the middle. Dusty portraits of Scottish lords and ladies littered the walls. In the main, cold front room, the marble mausoleum's ceiling went at least three stories, and the airy design made the house seem more like a palace. This place had to have been a hotel. The staircase was too grand for a house, and Maine had ski resorts. The hall had a long, dull-red carpet that clung to the floor. Her feet itched a bit, and she realized the red rug was hard to see through the dirt. Her throat was parched, and she could see her breath.

Her toes became numb again, but she opened the front door.

_Crash._

What was that behind her? She hadn't touched anything. She bit her lip and slammed the door closed a moment later, but she was too slow. Snow had fallen on her feet and into the house. She yelped, and her voice echoed. The snow brushed against her chafed skin, and she froze.

Had that sound been the snow bank outside that tipped? Erica shook her head.

Then she ran back to the library. On her way, the blonde woman's eyes in the portrait followed her. Erica sped up. The fire would warm her. Once inside the double doors and the living quarters, she made her way to the fire. Her heart raced.

A bubble of laughter escaped from her lips. Why? She never laughed. She covered her mouth with her hands to make the sound stop.

Seconds later, she turned around to see the man from her tortured dreams of last night. He charged toward her from the other hallway, which led to their rooms from the library. A living room did not house this many books.

The deepness of his eyes suggested concern. Had he heard her yell? She gazed at the dark-haired man as he ran toward her. His muscles were now hidden under a deep blue shirt, jeans, and heavy snow boots.

She nodded. "I'm okay. You don't have to watch out for me."

"You yelled."

Warmth crept into her cheeks, and she couldn't meet his gaze. He let out a huff, walked past her, and then locked the double doors.

She flinched and tried to step away. "I am sorry."

He kept his distance and stood with his feet apart. "For what?"

Her face must be in flames. She nodded, though she had no answer that made sense. "I . . . don't . . . know."

He dropped his arms to his side, and she stared up at him. "Where were you going? Are you cold?"

Her legs wobbled. "No."

He took a step back toward the door. "Erica, there's nowhere to go."

"How do you know my name?" She took a step back. What was his name? How did she remember so much detail about last night but his name escaped her? She swallowed and tried to turn away, but her back hit the door.

She flinched. He backed up a bit and tilted his head. "We met last night. I'm Gabriel Murphy."

Gabriel was one of the four archangels. She laughed, but caught the sound in the back of her throat to stop it.

He shook his head, then stepped closer. She turned into the room to keep her distance. "Are you going to hurt me?"

"No, but you'll hurt yourself if you run around and freeze to death."

She was a capable woman. She always took care of herself. "I'll be fine."

He pointed to the doors. "Did you see anything?"

"No." What was she to see? She shook her head. "I'm cold."

He nodded. "It won't take a minute to grow back the flames."

"Thank you." Except near this man, she'd always been able to analyze and get her way. This shyness was new. Her mind swirled, unable to focus.

At the fireplace, he fanned the embers. "You barely escaped hypothermia a few hours ago, and I'm not equipped for more deaths."

She swallowed. "What deaths?"

"Let's not talk about that." Gabriel; his name rang in her ears. He offered her his hand, but she recoiled. He turned his head and directed them closer to the fire. He motioned for her to sit, and he knelt to stoke the flames.

She ought to give him the benefit of the doubt. He'd helped her. She licked her lips, knelt down, and brushed against him. The questions still frightened her, though.

Sparks ignited under her skin, and she hugged her thighs to her body.

She kept her gaze on the floor. "Do you have a phone?"

"No." He used a bellows to breathe air into the fire and make the flames grow.

Her body rocked. "Why not?"

At the fireplace, he turned to face her. "The landline is cut, and the cell towers don't reach this far up the mountain."

"My mother needs me." She gazed at him, and their stares were so direct that the eye contact seemed to dance. "Do you have a car?"

"Not one that works in this weather."

She gulped. She inched backward and sat on the couch. Did she trust him?

He took a seat at the other end of the couch. "I don't like people, generally."

She stared at the second door he had come through earlier and had disappeared into last night. She had skipped the big room in her quest to run. Where was her stuff? She drew her knees up to her chest, then remembered how short her nightgown was. She lowered her legs to sit like a normal person.

"Don't be afraid, Erica." He shook his head and broke their gaze. "The car's buried under two feet of snow that's likely to grow while the storm progresses."

She needed him to understand. She reached out and took his hand in hers. "My mother has cancer. I need to check in at the hospital. Please, do you have a computer?"

Warmth raced up her arm as he squeezed her hand. "I don't. I can't help. I'm sorry about your mother. I came here this winter to be alone."

Her mouth went dry. He was far too handsome to be so far removed. "Is there any way out?"

He tilted his head to the side. "No. Erica, I never planned for guests."

She rocked her body back and forth, and her eyes were a little wet. "I'm trapped."

He chewed on his lip and nodded. "You can stay here."

With her palms outward, she told him to stay back. He sat back to keep his distance.

She scoffed to hide how she shook on the inside. "You might kill me."

His hand went to his hip. "I don't kill innocent women."

She shrugged. "You talked about deaths, more than once."

"You remember last night." He took a deep breath then stared at her again. She fidgeted with her clothes. Finally, he tucked his hand in his pocket, and she met his gaze. "Last night, I fixed up a bedroom for you. I can add a lock if you want. Last night's blizzard and today's nor'easter won't get you home."

If he added a lock, he'd still have a key. Her skin was raw and she rubbed her arms. "You didn't answer my question."

Sexy brown eyes stared at her, and she couldn't avert her gaze. "You're cold."

"Sad. My mom needs me." She shook her head. Her heart told her he'd not kill her, but she came from a long line of women who believed men's lies. What could he do right now with the snow piled high? Patience was never her strong suit, but she had to try. She offered him a small smile. "And embarrassed. I don't normally barge into houses or drink hot chocolate from strangers."

"You needed it." With a sideways smile, he nodded. "This house drives people crazy."

What? Crazy? Had he meant himself or someone else? They hadn't talked much at all, and he confused her. He hadn't asked what happened to her out there or what happened to her car. He barely spoke beyond a few sentences. That wasn't a good sign. She glanced up. His cheeks were red, and her body relaxed. "You scare me, Gabriel."

"No." His features darkened. "The walls here hold secrets, and we can't get you home until the storm abates."

Secrets. Walls didn't hold secrets. Why would he intentionally be alone? She shook her head and rationalized that he was handsome, dark, and intense, but he discussed living walls. He had lost a few brain cells. Too bad, though. She put her hand on his face. The stubble of afternoon shadow prickled her hands, which still trembled, but the touch sent a shiver of excitement through her. She smiled.

He must have heard her car accident yesterday. Something prickled her spine that she had misjudged him somehow, but she had no other explanation. Discussion would make this worse. He was beautiful despite his lack of wits. She sighed. "I won't cause you any trouble, Gabriel. I'll stay out of your way."

"Good. We'll spend our days apart, then." He nodded. "What brought you here, Erica?"

And the nights? Where would he spend his nights? They were all alone here. She tugged her ear, stepped back, and laughed at herself. "I thought I could beat the storm, hole up in a hotel, then make my way back to Boston." She met his gaze. She dropped her hands to her sides, but they ached to touch him again. She didn't dare. "Turns out I was wrong. Miami people should not drive in Maine."

"Where were you going?" He checked her out, and she smiled. Today something in her life made sense. It was the first time Gabriel had acted human.

She swallowed and hoped he liked what he saw. Unlike the previous woman in this house, she'd never been petite a day in her life. Her frame wasn't made that way.

"To buy a factory. For my stores."

He glanced at the door and shifted his gaze to the storm outside. "Not this morning."

She reached out to his shoulder. "This morning."

He stared at her without a word.

"I clearly am missing the meeting." She swallowed, then finished, "I'm still a little dazed. I was hoping someone drove by my car and called the sheriff."

His stare darted back to her face. "Police. We're not in the South. No one will see it. Your car is buried in snow."

"Miami sheriffs stop working only right before the brunt of a hurricane. In New York, the cops run into burning buildings. Emergencies are their specialty." She nodded. "I hope help arrives soon."

"You're in the country now, Erica." His grim face told her plenty. "It's a miracle, or a testament to your willpower, that you made it here. The road is miles away."

"Miles?"

He kept his hands on his hips. She trembled a bit and reached out to touch him. He didn't shake off her hand. He met her gaze. "Erica, don't run outside to your death."

She took a small breath and knew she'd sounded childish. She darted her gaze away, "This year has been bad. I need my mom."

He stiffened as he sat beside her. "I don't have a phone."

Erica refused to become a whiner, and that edge to her voice hadn't been natural. She was the one who made the decisions. She smiled to keep him calm. His jumpiness echoed hers from earlier. "It's okay. Thank you for saving my life. I know you don't have a computer, but how about an Internet connection or Wi-Fi? I'd like to—"

"Again, no. I get you don't like the answer." He stepped into the shadows of the room. "But I live off the grid."

She narrowed her eyes and tried to understand her dark angel. "Why?"

He stepped away from her. "I don't need society or anyone. I'd rather be left alone."

"Why did you help me?"

"I don't like to be near death."

Again with the "death" talk. Her hand traced her neck to rub it again. She had kissed this man last night, but now he half scared her to death. She pressed her lips together. What would drive a handsome man to hide? In Miami, all the women would chase him. "Yet you're in a chateau that's large enough to be a hotel."

He shook his head. "Ski lodge."

She'd been right. With her eyebrows raised, she stared at him.

He lowered his gaze. "I'll get you something to eat."

Her arm extended to call him back, but she stopped. Irrational questions about death floated in her mind. Perhaps if she befriended him, she would help in her own demise, but if she stayed quiet, then she'd grow more afraid in time. Instead she lowered her hand to her heart and nodded. The man clearly didn't talk about himself. "Okay. You made delicious hot chocolate last night. May I have some now? I'm much stronger, thanks to you."

He openly stared at her for a minute. "Yeah, okay. Stay here."

A moment later, he went through the door that led back to the apartments. She relaxed and took a long, deep breath. How had people escaped winter storms before the Internet and phones? She scanned the room, and her gaze locked on a massive amount of books. She smiled. Last night, she'd slept in the man's library until he moved her to a bed. She'd read countless books at her mother's bedside for the past year.

Before she came in, he must have intended to read a book. Why else had he been in the library? This made him almost normal. She dropped the blanket back on the daybed and scanned the titles. Classics. A few mysteries. And fantasy books. No romances, though.

A book wouldn't be her chance at escape, but then, nothing would get her out of this place.

Erica picked up one well-read paperback. A piece of paper fell out. After she slid the book back, she picked up the note. She hadn't intended to read it, but her mouth fell open.

_I'm going to die here._

Her heart contracted and jumped. Noises came from the next room. She crumpled the paper into her fist and pasted on a smile when he came in.

The pretty handwriting appeared bubbly and feminine. Gabriel's presence in the room was a force of nature to be reckoned with. It wouldn't be his note.

Her gaze lowered, and she stared at the huge mug in his hands. She swallowed and met his eyes.

She hugged herself again. "You said your wife died?"

She cringed the second the words flew out of her mouth. This was almost as bad as the time she went to a funeral and asked the grieving widow if she was having a good day. Once again, she was insensitive in her words, but not in her heart.

He stiffened. "Yes."

She tilted her head. "How?"

He averted his gaze, not that she blamed him. "I don't want to talk about her—ever."

"Was it cancer?" Her voice cracked. Perhaps it was wrong to press the issue, but she couldn't stop herself. Her mouth had a mind of its own.

"No."

She pressed her lips together, and then she nodded. He braced as if she'd struck him. The portrait of the blonde played in Erica's head. Was that his wife? Something in her heart led her to think so, but she was unsure. She had to trust Gabriel. She had to have faith. She stepped closer and handed him the crumpled slip of paper.

"You read this?"

"It's not long, yeah."

He read the sentence again then ripped it up. "I have to go."

"Wait." She brushed his arm. Was the portrait his wife? She kept that question to herself. "Did she know she was going to die?"

He became a soldier in that moment, with his head high and an unreadable expression. "I'm not discussing her. Forget this drivel."

No one commanded her. She stood straighter. As he turned to leave, she called out, "Look, we're stuck together for who knows how long. I need to know if I can trust you—"

He stopped, but kept his back to her. "This storm can last days and will be followed with quite a few more. It's winter."

No. She gulped. "I have people who depend on me and my business."

He stood silent.

For such a big man, she had no more strength. She crumpled. "I don't understand this house. I feel like I'm possessed, and that's absurd. There is no such thing. I'm scared, and I need to trust you. So I need to know. Did she know she was going to die?"

He lifted his head, but kept his back to her. "She always claimed to. I have work to do."

What did that mean? Goose bumps grew on her body. She'd been unforgivably rude, and she had no reason. He had saved her. Doubts weren't her friend, but he hadn't assured her. Was the portrait that haunted her thoughts someone who'd died years ago? Or was the blonde his wife? Her breath caught in her throat the second he left. The hair on the back of her neck stood. The sky rumbled. Another storm would hit soon. Who was Gabriel, and why was she stuck here with him?

Cold trailed down her back, though her question hit her fast. Could he be a murderer?

She ran her hands through her hair to stop the thought that circled her mind. She fidgeted with her nightgown. The man had helped her last night. He'd saved her, and her body acted out of character near him. She was shy, then rude, and every cell in her body became aware of him every time they touched.

The loneliness of this place grew worse the second he left.

Crazy thoughts came from desperation, and she ached to help her mom. She'd find her way out.

She paced. She'd find service somewhere for her phone and check in with the hospital. Her sister had disappeared, and her mom couldn't handle more drama. Erica needed to reassure her.

A moan hung in the air.

The hair on her neck stood again, and she twirled around in the empty room. Was someone there? Gabriel was in the next room. She called out, "Hello?"

Gabriel answered from behind the door, "Wait."

"I can't. What's that sound? Who's moaning?"

He opened the door. His eyes were large, but if any stare might freeze her in one spot, his would at the moment. "Old houses make noises."

She stared ahead of her. A heaviness lodged in her chest, but her gaze darted around. She'd swear she was in danger and ought to run. Yet she saw no one.

What was wrong with her and this house?

# Chapter 3

Erica pressed her lips to get the last bit of her hot chocolate, then she stretched. Tremors of heat coursed through her body. Thoughts of Gabriel's intense eyes mixed in with the euphoric mood that chocolate sent her on. Gabriel hadn't stormed out, offended, after she'd been rude. He'd made this drink then excused himself. She was in his house, and her fears would be her own undoing. If he intended her harm, he'd had ample opportunity. He was strange but kind. At least she had stopped her constant worry about her mom's health for the moment. Gabriel took center stage in an amorous fantasy of their kiss. Had she honestly done that? She rolled her shoulders backward. She knew nothing about him.

She stared down at her short flannel nightgown and sighed. She needed to figure out where he'd taken her clothes. The living quarters were set up like a cozy apartment within the ski chalet. Last night replayed in her head, but she stopped the fantasy. Instead, she crossed her fingers and stood. She left the room and passed another door on her way. He had to have a laundry room and her clothes would be in a bucket. She'd go and check her assumptions.

Her feet scraped against the floor, and she stared around. The note she found came back in her mind. Before she left the library, she wandered over to the desk. Was the woman in the portrait outside his wife? Were there clues here on how she died? He had no pictures on his desk. She chewed on her lips. And why couldn't she let go of her incessant thoughts about the woman?

A clue to find out what happened might be hidden in a book. The note had been there. She thumbed through papers but saw nothing else mysterious.

She clicked her tongue in her mouth. The note had to be from his wife before she died. Erica's fingers curled into a fist. Why, she didn't know. But she knew there was a connection. Coldness seeped into her body. Something had happened here. The walls held secrets that warned of danger.

The howl of the wind echoed in the lobby. The storm must have grown stronger.

Her skin twitched. The last time she'd twitched about anything had been in high school. Her former anxiety had long ago been conquered. Nothing here would harm her. Gabriel was her host. Her chest grew warmer. Thoughts of a man shouldn't affect her day. She took a deep breath and refused to dwell on ancient history.

Besides, she might have made up some huge story in her head with no basis in reality. Work usually kept her mind busy. Without something to do, she couldn't enjoy herself and let her imagination soar.

She closed her eyes and counted to ten. At least the sugar reinforced the energy she had, and she would find something to do here. Perhaps cook for Gabriel? Erica licked her lips. Her love of cooking was how she'd managed to successfully own restaurants, and she intended to trademark her cupcakes. Whatever tragedy he'd lived through shouldn't affect them now, and if she offered him treats, it might help him to trust her.

Peace ran though her now. Even before the snow, every day she marched in heels like she ran for her life. Here it was quiet. She gazed at the back door again. What was back there? What did the rest of this place look like? The front room was huge, with a high ceiling that indicated multiple floors that opened to the abandoned lobby.

Outside the sliding doors, the rest of the house waited beyond his library. Coldness enveloped the place. In here, electricity and heat kept them alive.

How did Gabriel intend to live alone all winter? What man lived like this? A criminal? She opened her eyes. No, she'd bet money on her instincts. He wasn't that. His life remained a mystery, and he deserved her kindness.

Through the rest of the house, she'd see into his world. She rubbed her chin. What happened here? Who was Gabriel? Was he the dark angel she'd first seen? No man was a true angel, though, and she shouldn't believe in anything but what was in front of her face.

Goose bumps formed on her arm. Was someone watching her from the mirror? She stared at it then shook her head. Paranoia wouldn't help her.

Somewhere in this house, she'd get signal on her cell phone. She turned on the power button and saw _Unavailable_.

With a heavy swallow for courage, she brushed her raw skin to calm down. She'd find service today. Then she opened the door into a small hallway. The icy floor brushed against her big feet in too-small slippers. She sucked in her breath and ran. The wooden floor soon became marble, and the ice against her heels worsened. The cold on her feet sent pain through her limbs and numbed her. She'd ask for her closed-toe shoes back.

At the end of the hall, she stepped back into the library and wiggled her toes to warm up. The fire helped. A moment later she had a tickling sensation in her nose. The cold dissipated. The kitchen was likely the big room she passed earlier. She went out the side door and stepped onto some square-patterned tiles where her feet didn't freeze, and she glanced into a modern kitchen. She slid off one of her too-small slippers to lift her leg and massage her toes for warmth.

Tonight, they'd eat well. She could make a dinner out of almost any ingredients.

A minute later, she took a deep breath. The cold that gnawed at her stopped its climb up her leg, and she slid her slipper back on.

She took a step then stopped to check her phone. Still no service.

Food was a staple of life, though, and she opened the refrigerator to see it was well stocked. Good. The man must have shopped. She opened the cabinets. There were multiple cans as well. Another cabinet held utensils and cookware. She shrugged, then closed the drawer and told herself, "Gabriel must cook a lot."

"I do."

Her heart almost fell out of her chest. She twirled around. He leaned against the wall in the hallway that led back to their bedrooms. His black T-shirt clung to his muscles and left little to the imagination. Her mouth watered. With a gulp, she stared at his black, filthy, scratched hands—what was he up to? The coldness enveloped her heart, but she held together. "What happened to your hands?"

She pocketed her cell phone then glanced up to see his eyes.

"Nothing. I came to wash off."

He pointed to the sink, with one plate in it and a glass cup. She shook her head. "Where are your bandages? I want to check those cuts on your hands."

Silence greeted her ears.

To help, she turned the water on, but she gave him her back. "I'll wash the dishes in the sink and help out while I'm here."

He pressed his shoulder on her back to stop her, and she turned her torso to shield herself. Excitement coursed through her, but now was not the time. His deep voice was almost hypnotic. "You're more lucid now. Let me wash up, and then I'll show you the place. Give me a minute."

She glanced around and stared at his strong backside. She craned her neck to follow his movements until he went into another room. Intense heat coursed up her body and stole her breath. Her nerve endings fired up, and she needed her control.

She smiled. Her muscles had stopped being so tense next to him. Doubts weren't healthy, and he'd been hospitable.

Her hands went to her back pocket, and she slipped her phone out. _Battery low_ flashed in the upper corner of the screen. She gulped then powered it down.

Footsteps echoed behind her in the hallway. She tilted her neck and strained to ignore his handsome face and stare at his hands. He had cut himself, and that new scar on his hand must be painful. "Ouch."

He gazed into her eyes, and her cheeks heated. How was a stare chocolate-succulent? "I'm fine. Don't worry about this."

He made no sense. She sucked in her breath and planted her legs wider. "I want to help."

"I don't need help." His tone echoed another statement of "leave me alone." He avoided her and went back to the sink. With his back turned, he never saw her chest cave in a little.

As she inhaled, she tried again to take charge, though the hairs on the back of her neck rose again. _Someone near hated her._ Erica twirled around then stopped herself. She stared at a wall and swore there was someone else there. Nothing stirred.

_There's no such thing as ghosts._ She stood next to Gabriel and picked up his hand to stare at the cut. "That needs to be bandaged."

He withdrew his hand but a spark coursed through her.

Her neck still prickled. Was someone else here? Her chest tingled, but then she stared into his sexy brown eyes. Warmth returned. He grumbled next to her, "I was in the Marines. I know how to take care of myself."

She put her hand on her hip. "Men never know how to take care of themselves."

He shook his head, and she swore he rolled his eyes at her. "You must have known a lot of boys, not men."

_Scratch._

Erica flinched. Had she heard fingernails or were her ears playing some tricks on her? She stared around the room at the empty walls, and didn't see anyone. Distracted, she dropped her hands and inhaled. "Did you hear something?"

He ran his hands through his hair and stared at her, unsure. She bit her lip and rocked on her feet a bit. The nearness of him kept her warm, and she shrugged. "Okay. I don't talk to many men unless it's about work."

He stared at her with those eyes that made her knees weak then smiled. "The boys near your house are obviously blind. Where are you from?"

She smiled, and the weight on her chest dissipated. "I grew up in Miami."

He turned off the water and dried his hands. "That place breeds plastic."

Despite his protest, she checked out his hand and took it closer to her face for inspection. Her heart raced now, but it was the opposite of her heavy heart a moment ago. Gabriel was sweet, and she bounced a bit on her toes. "I dated a few men who needed me to make more money because they didn't have motivation beyond appearing good."

He shook his head. "Physically, I'm a mess."

"That's a lie." Her eyes widened then she licked her lips. "You've the body gym rats envy."

With a shrug, he hung the towel on a shelf. "I work with my hands."

To stay busy, she decided to quickly wash what was in the sink. Her paranoia stayed in the back of her head. This house was creepy, and perhaps her foolishness was from being near a sexy man. Perhaps she had misunderstood him. She had no idea how to act in front of a man with Gabriel's physical blessings. His hand brushed her back. She jumped at the sink and almost dropped the cup in her hand. Instead she caught herself, then relaxed. "I'm nervous around you."

"Why?"

She turned toward him and took his hand in hers. "Because in the darkness and cold, I couldn't take care of myself, and I owe you."

He clenched his jaw. "Anyone would do the same, ma'am. I don't like the smell of death in this house. There is too much of it already."

"Death?" She leaned back a bit.

He stared at the ground and shook his head. Then he blushed. "I'm not good with conversations. I misspoke."

She kept her hand on top of his. "Don't. You can't say keep saying 'death' and not explain."

He shook his head, but answered, "My wife died here."

The note. She chewed her lip. "Was she the blonde in the lobby portrait?"

"She always had a high opinion of herself." He stared at the ground. "Yes, that was her."

Erica's instincts had been spot on. Her gut also said he had nothing to do with her death. Finished with the dishes, she turned the water off. Besides, if she didn't trust him, things would end up bad. She leaned up to whisper in his ear. "We shouldn't have secrets. You saw my naughty bits. Relax."

His cheeks turned red. "I tried not to stare at all."

Her heartbeat thumped in her chest. She mirrored how he stood, stared at the ground, and held her left arm with her right hand, as she admitted, "I'd be more embarrassed after that moment if you walked away without a peek."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "You were lucky that you made it here."

"I'm a survivor." She shrugged. "Most men never notice me no matter what I wear or don't wear."

His eyes widened, and he gazed at her. "Are you joking, woman? You're beautiful."

Her genuine smile appeared until something flew past the window outside. She jumped then laughed at herself. The storm seemed never ending, but her internal fire burned on. "I don't know if it's morning or night with the storm outside."

"It's early evening."

The flutters in her stomach grew from the nearness of him. She stared at the floor. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"I already said this: Any man would do the same." He turned to leave.

"Not the men I know." She shrugged and dropped her hands. "I tend to date self-centered men who wouldn't."

His eyebrow went up, but he kept his gaze off her. "Go. Relax in my den if you can. Give me a few hours to get a few more things for the bedroom I prepared for you. Last night I rushed, and I still have the bureau to get back in there. That storm out there could leave us stranded for a month or more, and you'll need supplies."

Her throat constricted. A month? She couldn't speak for a minute. She flinched at a flash of light outside. The window rattled in the wind. Her heart beat rapidly.

Gabriel turned to leave again. She touched his back, but that sent sparks through her. "Wait. You promised me a tour."

His muscles tightened. Then he turned to stare at her for a long while, and somehow, she calmed down. His grim face showed how unhappy he was. "It's better we don't talk. I'll show you the room I'm preparing for you."

"Why not? We're stuck together."

He said nothing. Her body shook from a chill every time he walked away. Her mind raced. "We need to talk. How much food do you have?"

A sigh escaped his lips and he stepped farther away. "I've enough for me for a year. There is enough to survive if we're stranded for winter."

Why did a man need that much food? Grocery stores were everywhere. Even Maine had one every few miles. "It snows that much?"

At the door, he answered her, "Not always, but this year it might."

_It might not._ She kept the thought to herself.

She followed him down the hall and paid more attention. They passed three doors—two on the left, one on the right. At the next one on the right, he pushed the knob and she stared at his unusually muscular arms and callused hands. The men she knew in Miami had soft hands. Gabriel's rough hands had brushed against her naked skin, and it was the most erotic moment she had experienced in her life.

With a gulp, she stepped into the cold room. He went to start a fire. The warmth in her kept the chill at bay. She stared around Gabriel and into the room. The bed she'd slept on had been newly made. The window looked sturdy, with a good view of the bleak sky.

She went farther in. Female clothes hung in the closet. "Did you put these here for me?"

"No. I unlocked the door." He grimaced then nodded. "Clothes are a normal want, and if you're stuck you'll need a few. Yours are in the laundry. This is what I have here. Please make a pile in the coming days of ones that won't fit your more ample form."

A gasp escaped her lips. She stepped into the closet and noticed the size labels. "I've never been petite a day in my life, but I will figure out something. The women in my family all get breasts and hips."

He tilted his head. "I wasn't complaining, Erica. I like looking at you."

"Thank you. I like looking at you too."

Had she just said that out loud?

He crossed his arms and his lips were sealed, like he had slipped.

She straightened her long nightgown and pressed her palm to the material. "I'll figure out what I can wear of these. It's not like I have anything of my own."

With his hands clenched, he stepped backward into the darkness. "Take whatever you need in here. I'm glad I didn't bother to burn this stuff, as I had planned."

A bonfire of clothes sounded drastic. She scratched her head and left the closet. Then she went back into the room and caught his stare. "That's an intense thought."

He backed up to the door, though he unclenched his fists. "I should go."

She couldn't let him disappear. Not yet. Her body stayed attuned to the fact that he fought memories. She wanted to help. Her voice went higher. "Wait. What are the other rooms?"

He stood still and didn't walk away, though his face had edges of pain. He answered with a clenched jaw, "Bathroom is across the hall. Next door is the laundry room. First door is the living room, not that much is there. You know the library already. Feel free to roam those rooms. My bedroom is farther down the hall. Stay out of there."

She reached up to touch him, and he flinched. Was he repulsed? Her chin trembled. "Gabriel, don't . . . thank you. I'd be dead without you."

"You fought to stay alive." Gabriel winced and shook his head. "Just stay out of my way. Now leave, go back to the den, and let me finish fixing the room and start a fire here for you."

_One minute he's super nice, and now he's standoffish again._ Her eyes darted to the fireplace. She wished she had her mother to talk to. Gabriel made no sense. "Thank you."

She intended to walk past him and go to the den/library—whatever he wanted to call the room. Then she brushed against his hand, and electricity coursed through her body. Strange. The man made no sense, and she let the impulse go.

In a flash, she focused on the walls. Something else was here, and the ache in the back of her throat wasn't the start of a cold.

Gabriel stepped back, and she couldn't let him go. The small apartment in the huge chateau would be enough for now, if Gabriel was who she yearned for.

He took another step, and she couldn't walk away without a touch. Instinctually, she reached out and stroked his arm to offer comfort.

Then her mouth found his again.

He kissed her as if a dam had burst inside of him. His kiss burned into her, and she knew she hadn't imagined anything. His lips tasted salty and sweet and intoxicated her senses. With a contented groan, she leaned into him, held him close, and raked her hands down his back.

His kiss sent a risqué hum down her, and she lost control.

When he suddenly yanked her off him, he made a gruff noise that said he had reacted the same way. For a moment they did nothing but stare at each other. Finally, he leaned over to pick her up. Her body jostled in his embrace. "Not here. I haven't built the fire yet. It's too cold for you."

As he carried her against his well-formed chest back toward the den, he held her snugly and she listened to his heartbeat. Like hers, his raced. This invisible web of attraction to Gabriel had her acting all out of character. The businesswoman had disappeared here, and she now was acting more like her sister. Erica had never been free-spirited until now. The tired woman upset that hospitals didn't work miracles dissipated. Something primal tore through her.

Perhaps she hoped to celebrate every second now. She was alive. Gabriel's strong lips left her mouth with a constant ache for his kiss. She'd heard about good sex all her life, and her mind earlier had been cloudy. Unlike most women, it seemed, she'd never had good sex. Sex had always been over fast so that she could get back to work. She wet her lips with her tongue and imagined she'd experience what women whispered about as a "release," if Gabriel took her.

He put her down, and she flung herself into him. His lips shattered any doubts she had, and he left her mouth with a tingle of excitement that burned for more.

She stood on her tiptoes, buried her face in his neck, and left a small kiss there.

With a tortured grunt, he tore himself away. Her head spun out of control. He had kissed her back. "Erica, I . . . shouldn't."

"Don't think." She stood up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. "I'm here. We're alive."

Something dark stormed through his body, and he stepped back. He ran his hands down his hair again and spun away. "No, I was wrong. This cannot happen between us. You deserve better."

Her throat constricted, and he ran out of the room.

Out of breath, she tried to stop her heart racing. She held her hands close to her chest. Gabriel set off a strange desire in her that she'd never experienced in her life. Until him, she steered clear of attractive men, and never had these sparks of awareness. She knew with certainty she'd acted way out of character, and it didn't matter here.

She'd not be here forever.

No one would believe Erica Mira—the cook and baker with big dreams to take over an abandoned cake factory to market her own brand of tasty treats nationwide—ever entertained erotic thoughts about men. She'd been called cold, logical, and boring. She licked her lips and listened to her heartbeat. She'd never been that fulfilled from sex to care.

The fever he awoke in a kiss was new. Until him, despite the science classes she'd taken, she wondered if the stories women told one another about orgasms were just that. She had questioned if the entire response was made up for Internet junkies and romance readers. Now the pulse of desire stayed strong. In the past, she'd always cooled fast after a man's kiss. Perhaps with Gabriel it was real.

She told the empty room, "Whatever his past was, I have to find out. A man like Gabriel should not be locked up here on a mountain. We're far from done."

# Chapter 4

_M om, don't die. I'll come home._

Erica's eyes opened. The images and the voice must have been a dream. Her mom had to be fine. Erica clenched her hands. Like her, Mom fought tooth and nail. Kimberly had no idea that Mom was sick.

Erica's heart raced. She'd not fall asleep again. She wished her phone had service. As she stretched her back to get up, she turned on her bed toward the window. The sun burned her eyes. With a moan, she threw her pillow over her head, hoping it would block out the light.

There was nothing she could do. She tried to calm down and think of anything other than her nightmare. Visions of her mother, alone in her hospital bed, swirled in her head.

Erica gulped, and every breath was heavy. She had to think of something else. Her lips puckered. Gabriel's kiss had warmed her. The sparks reverberated down her body. Last night, she had hoped to end her celibacy vow, even though she'd found that note about a woman's death. She hugged herself and opened her eyes. Too many deaths in the house already? Seriously? His voice in her dream replayed that part all night. She couldn't understand herself.

A quiver in her stomach helped her sit up, though she shook it off.

Crash.

Something cracked in the air, like a glass had shattered.

She glanced around the room in search for a broken item, but she didn't see any shards. She chalked it up to her half-awake state. There was nothing wrong. She tilted her head for one more scan around the room, then frowned and fixated on the white world outside the window. The snow almost amplified the sunshine.

Snow mounted higher, but the glass was intact. Maine was so different from flat Miami. The green trees poked out of the white-capped mountains, and the valley near the house was so white. Not one scrap of dirt or rock could be seen for miles.

She sniffed the clean, fresh air and rolled her shoulders. She almost relaxed, but she swore she saw a shadow on the wall. The sound of something breaking had been close. A shiver crept up her spine, and her skin tingled. Was she being watched, even now?

Erica traced the wall but nothing was there. She turned back toward the window and the sunlight dimmed.

She glanced out and saw dark gray clouds in the distance. A wind held that incessant howl and raced past the glass pane. She licked her lips and stood to get a better look outside. The window panel had no cracks, and stayed sturdy, but the white snow glistened pure and clean up to the windowsill. The clouds meant another storm. A sigh escaped her throat. How much more could it snow?

She coughed, then cleared her throat, but she stayed quiet. What could she say? Gabriel was somewhere else, and she'd spent the night on her own.

Her shoulders were tight, and her fingers shook. Coldness overtook her, and she fought against a shiver. She rubbed and twisted her neck, but she was still tense. A shadow grew against the wall again, and the hair on the back of her head lifted. Was someone else with her?

To stop the scream in her throat, Erica called out, "Gabriel?"

No one answered, but she swore she heard the pitter-patter of an animal nearby. He didn't have a dog, did he?

The shadow seemed more like a person. _Relax_. Everything about this was wrong. She combed her hair with her fingers and focused her gaze. She was in the bedroom Gabriel had pointed out last night. She tugged at her flannel pajamas and shifted on her feet.

A loud bang roared in the air. She winced, though that noise sounded far off inside the house. She tried to make out what that noise was, but she couldn't be sure. After she pressed her ear to the wall, all she heard was her fast heartbeat. Imagination had never been something Erica had time for. She bit her bottom lip, then went to her closet to pull out some clothes and a pair of slippers.

A working phone would be her salvation. She massaged the bridge of her nose. Why had she abandoned her charger in the car?

Something caught her eye in the back of the closet. She peered closer and gazed at a book. Yesterday she'd ransacked the clothes and shoes and hadn't seen this. Though she stretched, she reached backward, and almost stumbled the second she heard that bang again.

She coughed. "Is someone here?"

No answer came. She rubbed her neck. Her limbs shook, though she tried to rub her skin to stop the reaction.

Her hands twisted into fists for a split second before she relaxed. Again, she reached and clutched at black plastic material and grabbed the book from the closet. She caught her breath and found a seat at the vanity. Then she opened the front page to see she had a diary. _Property of Tiffany Murphy_. Murphy was Gabriel's last name. She scratched her head and tried to figure out who Tiffany was. She flipped to the first page and read: _Today is the day I marry Gabriel. I loved him the moment I saw him. Gabriel would be the perfect groom, on a perfect day, and no clouds of disillusionment would ever change this moment. Gabriel was so tense, though. I look at him, and I am not certain I truly have him. Will we be happy?_

Erica's heart beat and she settled into the back of the chair. The dead wife's diary could give her some insights into Gabriel. She gulped. The handwriting matched the note in her mind, but she might be wrong. She had to be. She'd had only a momentary glance. But the same curves on the letter 'e' flashed in her memory.

The man had ripped the note out of her hand last night, had told her to forget it, and the memory flashed in her mind. But what if the note was a warning? Her breath caught in her throat. She forced herself to take a deep breath and decided, for now, to keep the discovery of the diary to herself. She'd read this first.

Hopefully, first, she'd find the spot to make that call and be able to forget this house.

She went over and made her bed, then slid the book under the covers.

"Are you hungry?" Gabriel leaned on the door frame as he knocked. "I'm making breakfast."

Gabriel's brawny muscles stood out. His body flexed on its own, and she'd never seen a more perfect man. She opened her mouth but said nothing. No lock would keep a man out of his own house, and the thought chilled her till she met his gaze. Broad shoulders and intense eyes beckoned her to him. She was like a ship that neared a lighthouse.

"Are you okay?" He stared at her with his eyebrows raised.

She rolled her shoulders, then nodded. "I was going to cook breakfast."

The wind howled and rattled the window. Her eyes flew to the side. Was that the noise? She stared at the wall and wondered if she saw a shadow of someone else. Her mind raced. Without a thought, she took a step back. Then she flinched again. She cringed, then gazed at him. She pasted a smile on her face. "Oh, okay. I'll cook dinner for us."

He shrugged and walked away.

She rubbed her forehead. With a nod, she let her heart slow its fast pace and calm down. To help, she fingered her phone in her back pocket again. At least she had a plan.

Stillness entered her mind for the moment, and she put on the slippers. Though her feet were too big for them, she made her way down the hall. Food nourished the soul and the family. Her father had died when she was young, and Mom had raised the two of them on her own. Her sister had walked away years ago. Erica shook her head and wiped away stray tears. She'd cook today. The emotional release when she cooked entered her every meal. In the kitchen, she was at peace. She could do something to bring people back together, and in her restaurant, families ate together. After she lost her dad, she had fed her family. Now, every day, until the storm, she fed other people's families. One day, her missing sister would come home for good. A hot meal and her mom would be waiting for Kimberly. For now, Gabriel was all Erica had. He tried to be nice. Good food might steady Gabriel too, and make her less jumpy near him.

In the kitchen, she heard a cabinet slam shut. Every spice should be treated as important. A huge shadow much larger than anything on the walls in her bedroom darkened the halls. She clutched her stomach and followed Gabriel into the light. She stepped into the kitchen. His broadness dissipated the tension inside her. With jeans that clung to his hard body, every cell inside her became electrified.

"Morning." He held the frying pan in his hands and showed her. The man had made her eggs and sausages.

With her mouth open slightly, she raked her eyes over him, stopping to gaze at his strong, manly shoulders before nodding at him. With a smile, she stared at his muscular arm. "Ordinarily, no one cooks for me."

Without one word uttered, he placed a plate of food in front of her. Her proffered smile did not change his grim look.

She pushed the chair out next to him. "Please sit. Eat with me."

"It's better if I stay away from you." He stared at the coffeemaker, not at her.

The lights flickered and she gasped.

He put his hand on her shoulder, then told her, "If the power goes out, I have a generator."

His touch warmed her. "And the sounds in the walls?"

He massaged her muscles for a moment. "Old houses make noises."

"Gabriel . . ." She needed to form her words. He stole her breath away. To calm her internal cravings, she bit her lip and met his gaze. "You've taken care of my every need since I arrived, except spending time talking. Can we try to be friends?"

Every muscle in his body stiffened, and he kept his hands on his sides. "It's not a good idea."

"You enjoyed kissing me, just as I enjoyed you. But I don't chase after men who don't want me." She stared at her plate of food for a minute to catch her breath for strength before she steered her gaze to meet his eyes. "It will be easier for me if I understand why you don't wish for us to even be friends."

Darkness surrounded him. She stared at his huge hands; he refused to meet her gaze. At least he didn't move. Slowly, with a strained voice, he told her, "I've been away from decent women like yourself for too long. In the Marines, I learned to kill, and I don't trust myself near you."

Something haunted him. It was in his stare, but whatever it was, she wasn't frightened. His stiffness almost reminded her of someone at attention. Hmm.

"How long have you been out?" She offered him a tentative smile.

"Two years officially, but the year before it was on and off." With an empty stare at the door, he told her, "My wife died two winters ago."

She stood and took a step toward him to squeeze his hand if he'd let her. When she reached out, he shook his head, backed out of his chair, and walked out of the room. A primal need for attention, which had been denied, rose through her, but she let it go.

He kept his distance, and she should do the same. She reached behind her back to find her phone, and he raked his hands through his hair.

Her neck twisted so she could watch where he went, but he disappeared into the gloomy hall. A moment later, a door slammed. She flinched, then crossed her arms to stop the coldness that seeped into her spine.

In Miami, no one wore his heart on his sleeve, and that difference drew her to Gabriel.

She sat back down and stared at her full breakfast he had made her. She ate a little, but wasn't hungry. Not for this. Her lips had tingled the other night from that kiss. Perhaps she lied to both of them that they could be friends. She bit her bottom lip and stared down the empty hallway full of shadows. Who was Gabriel?

While she placed her plate into the sink, she gazed out the window at the dreary day. The dark clouds were impossible to see, and whiteness flew everywhere. The window kept her inside, but fierce winds mixed with new snow made visibility impossible. She'd check the door again later. From the window it seemed hopeless to leave. Perhaps she could find a signal if she climbed higher in the house. The howl of the wind meant she was stuck here for who knew how long.

Fatigue hit her. When she closed her eyes, she prayed she could get back on the road. The whiteness would make it impossible, but she'd check in with her mother if she could. She stilled her mind, then she opened her eyes and didn't blink once. She stared out, mesmerized at the rustle of pine trees in the snow.

Hopeless. There was no escape from this place. Not unless the police came on skis.

A jiggle of keys in the distance startled her. She jumped backward, and her heart raced. She needed to relax.

The lights flickered again, and her breath lodged in her throat.

A moment later the lights went out. She turned to stare at the hallway again. She'd go to her room, clean up, then figure out how bad this snow was.

It was a good idea to find a flashlight.

She muttered to herself, "I probably lost my bid for the bakery."

In the end, she'd find another way to pay off the bills. She had no choice. With clenched hands, she walked down the hall and figured out her next move. Somewhere in the darkness, there was an end to this nightmare. An antenna to phone service existed somewhere.

In her warm room, with the fire, her body heated. Even after she stepped out of the shower, she gulped as she dried herself.

_What if Gabriel killed his wife because of posttraumatic stress?_

Her muscles jumped. Only crazy people gave in to every thought. The eerie quiet of the place must have messed with her mind, though she backed up a few inches and stubbed her heel on the bathtub.

_Ouch_. She picked up her leg and brushed it to shake off the pain. Slowly she moved the muscle.

In her room, she threw the clothes on, and she thankfully hadn't wet her hair.

Crash.

What was that? Her memories never had a soundtrack before. Who or what was here? She stared around but nothing stirred.

Her feet itched to run out the door, and her heart raced in her chest. The ill-fitting shirt didn't cover her midriff and pinched at her chest, but she threw a sweater over it, then a sweatshirt.

She had no boots, though. Her feet would not squeeze into another's woman's four-sizes-too-small shoes. Without another thought, she ran out and checked her sneakers on the floor. They were still wet. The slippers would have to suffice.

A loud scratch echoed in her ear, like something clawing at the wall, and she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her belly. When it stopped, her nostrils flared.

She'd swear she had seen the shadow of a small woman, but that was impossible.

In a heartbeat, she slipped on the slippers and made a run for it. She could make it to the door. In the now dimly lit hall, she swept her hand across her forehead while she told herself not to be irrational, or let that tension in the air spook her.

The wind thundered past the nearest window, and Erica couldn't see beyond the white snow that blanketed the entire glass.

Everything had to be fine. She stilled. Gabriel had been nothing but good to her. She clenched and unclenched her hand. Then she relaxed and entered the kitchen. Finally, her breaths stopped the burst and contract hard cycle of in and out. She could inhale a deep breath, and she stared at the stove and let the crazy fear subside.

Old houses made noises. Today she'd find a signal and call the hospital. She repeated to herself, "Everything will be fine."

In Miami, all houses were new and didn't need to settle. Her friends from up north always mentioned the difference. Calmly she made her way out of the kitchen to check out the library.

She turned on the phone and stared at the bright colors on the screen. The batter was still low and she had no service.

Without the storm, she could check out the chateau. Somewhere there could be a signal. Outside the place had looked huge, her beacon to salvation in the dark storm. The place was much bigger than the small, cozy apartment inside.

After her hands shook from the frigid air, she proceeded through the drafty lobby, and noticed a huge grand staircase and a rotted baby grand piano. The darkness of the place sent a chill down her spine. No service. She peered up the stairs.

Her ears picked up strange noises that whooshed in the air. Her feet rattled and legs wobbled. Her pace stopped short, and her breath caught in her throat.

No. She refused to be stupid. She'd get used to the noise.

Besides, she needed her phone.

She gulped. Then she continued and made her way to the front door. Before she opened it, she crossed her fingers, and hoped she was wrong. She flung open the door, only to see the snow piled all the way to the top of the door.

No escape. The snow cracked from the top, and she flung the door closed before the avalanche buried her. With all her strength, she pushed up against the closed door, though she shrieked as she heard the bang of snow behind her.

When nothing moved, she jumped away and ran to the huge bay windows. The snow reached the panel there.

What if she never escaped from here?

Erica turned around. She swore someone stared at her from the darkness. "Gabriel?"

But no one answered.

With her elbows pressed to her side, she made it to the lobby again. The front desk would be where guests checked in. Her chest tightened while she went behind the counter.

Still no signal.

A clink, then a clatter buzzed in her ears. What was that sound?

She gripped the counter. Soon her fingers ached and she let go.

She spotted an older computer and hit the "On" button. Nothing powered on, but then, this part of the place had no lights. Her leg muscles tightened, though she decided to explore the stairwell.

She peered up and heard more of that clamor. The hair on the nape of her neck lifted, and she covered her mouth to stifle another scream. Erica Mira was not this wimpy, and never this scared all the time.

The second step creaked, and she stepped back.

No.

A flashlight would make this easier. She bit the side of her mouth and stepped back. She'd try again later.

Then she ran back into the library. Inside, she leaned on the door to get her heart to stop its fast pace. She had to stop these imaginary and crazy thoughts in her head.

"I've never been alone before, not like this. Calm down."

She tried to call despite the lack of service. She stood still and hoped to get a connection.

Nothing greeted her, and she finally ended the call.

Perhaps after she ate, she'd have more strength. Then she'd search with more clarity.

Her plans helped soothe her hard stomach, but her hands stayed jumpy with adrenaline. Before she went dizzy, her fingers ached for activity. She'd cook up a meal for tonight. Food calmed the spirit. If dinner was yummy and warm, she'd get Gabriel to talk to her for more than a minute.

He said she'd be fine, and she hoped to believe him. Conversation would wipe away her crazy fears.

And her mother always told her that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach. For the first time in her life, Erica hoped that to be true.

# Chapter 5

Erica diced the tomatoes for the sauce. The knife cut fast, and suddenly, she nicked herself. The straight line was a bleeder, and Erica ran her hand under the sink to clean up the blood. Then her skin prickled and her muscles tightened. Every nerve ending stood up, but she refused to flinch. Kitchen accidents were rare for her, and she shook off the sensation that someone watched her again. She straightened her clothes, but she tugged at illusive strings a little longer than necessary before she went back to work.

Maybe if she befriended Gabriel, her nerves would go back to normal without the electricity that coursed through her. Lust didn't fit in the plans right now anyhow.

Her mind wandered. The man's height and muscle mass would protect her in any fight. In bed, his power would be more attractive than any other man she ever dated. In bed? She shook her head. That thought sounded like it belonged to someone else, and she laughed at herself. This was silly. Usually she scared off the big, strong hero types when she didn't play demure and shy. And lies never worked out well for her.

She closed her eyes and envisioned his lips brushing against hers. She sighed. Without a doubt, he knew how to kiss.

She giggled to herself, and then she opened her eyes and finished dicing. Lust was easier to handle than paranoia at the walls. She scratched her neck. She hoped too much for Gabriel to notice her. She smiled. Then maybe he'd forget his reservations. She shook her head. Her message to him was they should be friends. At least she could admit it. The tang of his mouth on her sent a tingle throughout her body. She smiled to herself and stirred the vegetables in the pan. His kiss had burned into her soul, and she couldn't forget how he tasted.

The vegetables wouldn't take long on the stove, and peace came back to her. She stared at the kitchen. The stove, refrigerator, and work area were perfect for a small family. Food sustained every man and woman, especially if served with dessert. She nodded. Her cupcakes would help her cause.

And her too. What if she could never make that call?

She washed her hands and went to work. The dough of her creation soothed her as she mixed the ingredients together. With every stir, she became more like her old self.

Soon, the appetizing smell of her baked creations went up her nostrils and fueled her hunger. She stroked her throat, then changed the pan and placed the chicken in the oven.

She inhaled the succulent scent of the cupcakes. She whipped together the buttercream frosting and would add it once the cupcakes cooled. She hoped he'd eat them. She would later. Either way, food was always a good way to offer friendship, and her heart would not continue its pitter-patter.

When done, she set dessert aside and moved down the counter to stir the sauce. With more confidence, she thrust out her chest higher and smiled. Heavenly tastes fixed a lot of issues in her life, and with food preparation, she had that one moment of bliss where she gave back something bigger than herself. If she could, she'd feed the world.

She gazed out the window. An animal, probably a wolf, cried out in the forest. Erica sucked in her breath, but stared out. Gray skies darkened the horizon. Then the lights flickered. She flinched and ducked for cover.

Her heart raced again, and the hair on her head stood. The lights blinked again. She scanned around her to find someone, but no one was here with her.

Were generators as steady as electricity? The last time a hurricane hit the house, they used the generators only for the airconditioning. The Sunshine State tended to always have light, but perhaps the generator needed gas or something. With a sigh, she reached for plates, and the room went completely black.

A hand went to her back, which caused her to shake, and she dropped the plate.

The crash sent a tremor up her entire body.

"You keep breaking the dishes and we'll be eating off the floor. Relax. I'll be right back to start the generator."

"No." She reached to stop Gabriel, but his touch blocked out the coldness on her spine. The unnatural panic fought with her internal logic. She fixed her hair back and tried not to shake. "Will the generator have enough power until the power company restarts?"

"Don't worry, Erica." His hand went on top of hers. "The line might be broken down the mountain. It could be all we have for months."

No power and no phone? To stop the panic, she bit her lip, then nodded. At the same time, she never looked away from the fire in his eyes. "Then we need to conserve for cooking and the essentials."

His tentative smile warmed her, but she swore someone hated her nearby. She ignored the sense and stepped closer to him. He gently massaged her neck. "Ma'am, I have enough for a few months before we get to that. Not my first winter up here. I won't let you get cold."

Heat went through her now, and her mouth dropped open. Gabriel was her knight in shining armor. She continued to stare into his dark chocolate eyes. The succulence of his stare was more palatable than food. Her mouth trembled a bit. "Hurry, then. I made us a wholesome dinner."

"Don't fall over." His hand reached for hers. "Relax and stay calm. I'll be right back."

He let her hand go, and she ached to have him back. He stepped back into the darkness. She stroked her arm. Her skin had stayed warm where he had touched her. Her eyes stayed on his back until he disappeared into the hallway. Now, her heartbeat raced.

The wind howled outside, and she clenched her fists. There had to be a solution. Then she closed her eyes and remembered that she had seen a candle somewhere on the table, and matches in the drawer with the silverware. She opened her eyes, took two steps to her right, and opened the drawer. Success. Her grin grew. And she fumbled to pick up the matches unseen. After her fingers clutched the paper container, she held the package until she ripped one out to light. The match didn't stay for long, but she refused to walk in blackness. Even at home, safe in her bed, night never went well for her. The wind rattled the window behind her. The moment she neared the table, she shook her hands to rid herself of her nerves.

Her skin crawled like someone stood near her, and it wasn't Gabriel. His body near hers never chilled her. She'd swear it was a hateful child and not a large man.

She thrust out her chest and took the last few steps to the table. Then she latched her hand on the table and chairs that brushed her hip. With a sigh, she stuck out with her hands and almost knocked over the candle. Before it fell, she caught the stem, righted it, and lit the match. Finally, the wick burned.

Candlelight went further to brighten a room than she had imagined. She glanced around and relaxed her shoulders. No one was here.

She set the table. The food was ready.

When she placed the candle back into its holder, the lights flickered on. Her shoulders relaxed. He took care of her, and no one else was here. She stared at the wall and her heart raced a bit. Then she shook her head at her imagination. With her head cocked, she stared at the liquor cabinet. Wine would help them relax.

Today she'd make friends with him.

His big footsteps echoed from the halls. She rolled her shoulders back and smiled at the door as the noise grew closer.

He stepped inside, and she stared into his smoldering eyes. He leaned against the door. "We should be good for a few hours. I put it on, hoping the power comes back on. Be sure to bundle up before bed, Erica."

"Do we have flashlights in this place?"

"I'll put one in the library for you in the morning. Keep it wherever you want."

She pushed the seat back, and her heart hammered in her chest. "Sit. I cooked us dinner."

He stared into her eyes, and she stilled. His gaze drifted toward the chair. "I shouldn't stay."

"Gabriel, pour me a glass of wine and sit." She raised her eyebrows. Then she swallowed and stood up a bit. "That's an order, Marine."

A smile grew on his face. "Captain."

Her eyebrows lifted and her pulse grew with electricity. "Excuse me?"

He walked into the room. "If you are going to order me around, ma'am, use the title I retired with."

With a smile, she nodded. Fire grew in her belly, but she ignored her temperature. "Captain, the wine. Two glasses. I've been looking forward to talking about nothing important."

He stepped toward the cabinets, pulled down the glasses, and opened the bottle. As he poured, his gaze met hers again. "What topic are we discussing?"

Erica weighed her options. "No phones" would be whiny. And he'd not be ready to discuss his dead wife. Besides, she'd ignore the wet-blanket topics if he smiled at her every second of the day. She bit her lower lip, then decided fast. "Book recommendations." She leaned in her chair and whispered into his ear, "Is that safe enough for you?"

"Okay." He tentatively sat, and she held her legs down, else she might kick into a jig. At least he hadn't run off. The smell of pine and deep wood that was in his cells washed through her, and she licked her lips. Then she sat opposite him at the table.

With a smile, she picked up her fork and took a bite. He gazed at her mouth, and her lips tingled from excitement. She chewed her food and swallowed. "What do you think of the dinner?"

He picked up his fork, took a bite, and then shrugged. "It's okay."

What? She crossed her arms and shook her head. "Just okay? I was on my way meet an investor who was going to help me buy the closed-down cupcake factory on the coast and reopen it under my own brand. Most people think my cooking is divine."

He smirked, then smelled his food. "It's okay."

She smiled, but kept her hands wrapped around her chest. "Try another bite, unless that's a hint for the cupcakes."

Finally, he smiled at her and ate a little slower. She stared as his big, sensuous lips chewed. Then he swallowed and nodded at her. "Ma'am—"

Without a thought, she uncrossed her arms and reached out to put her hand on his arm. "Erica. My name is Erica, and we're not strangers, Gabriel."

Without one muscle that moved, he lowered his gaze. "Why are you doing this, Erica?"

"I'm trying to get you to talk to me, Gabriel. Now eat." She pushed a spoonful of chicken in his mouth.

His eyes sparkled at her. He stuck out his chin. "What if I don't want to?"

With a schooled smile, she dragged her chair closer to him, as she met his gaze. She lifted her chin. "Then I'll order you, Captain."

He shook his head and grinned at her. "You play with fire."

She met his grin, and the sparks inside her every cell fired. "Did you doubt that?"

He patted her knee that was close to his leg. Her skin burned from his closeness, but she stayed still. He leaned closer. "It's dangerous."

The fire inside her would consume her soon. Without missing a beat, she shrugged. "So is being buried alive in an abandoned chateau without an avenue of escape. I figure we have to learn to get along, and you do have some good qualities."

"Untrue." He shook his head, leaned back, and told her, "We don't have to get along. I don't have a future goal, not like you. I'll get you back to your life when possible, then we'll never see each other again. It's best if I leave you alone."

The chill in the space between them pricked at her skin, so she scooted closer to him. She preferred the blaze.

"Best for you, maybe." Whatever haunted him might be what scared her about this house. She tapped his thigh and kept his rapt attention on her eyes. She wasn't the only one who burned. "You'll miss me."

His features darkened, and his breath hitched. "I don't care about anything."

"I don't have that luxury." She watched him eat his dinner. And right now she fanned a flame that would consume them both. She knew it and refused to stop. On a hunch, she whispered, "For what it's worth, I like how you look out for me, care for me, and make me feel. It doesn't normally happen out there, in the big, wide world. And besides, you are far too young to lock yourself away."

Instead of an answer, he stared at his plate of food. She swallowed hard, but kept silent.

Something snapped in him, because he stared into her eyes and she glimpsed his internal conflict. Her heart beat for him, and she hoped to hold him. He took a breath. "I fought in more battles than you can count, refusing to leave a man behind. I am tired of war and battles."

She brushed her hair behind her ear. Was it the military experiences that held him back? Then she reached out and stroked the back of his hand. "If you need to talk, I have ears."

He shook his head. "I don't want to talk to you."

His words built a fire inside of her. She gazed into his haunted eyes. She could help him. Something inside her had to try. She winked. "We're stuck together. What do you want to do with me, then?"

His dark eyes lightened with intensity. Her skin flushed, then he reached over to help her out of her chair and onto his lap. His fingers brushed against her arm, and she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. She gazed on his full lips. He leaned closer, millimeters from her mouth. A thrill raced through her. He whispered, "I might have been wrong saying nothing can happen between us."

Yes. She suppressed a moan. "What do you think—"

But he stopped her question with a mind-numbing kiss. She sighed into him and hugged him closer. She didn't want to stop.

Her body moistened. Slowly his hands slid down her jeans, and he picked her up. She lifted her chin and kissed his neck and the bottom of his chin as he carried her to her bedroom.

She heard the crackle of firewood that burned in her fireplace the moment he opened the door. "Did you do that?"

"I promised to keep you warm." He laughed and kissed her forehead. With a shy smile toward him, she gazed at her bed.

His appeal ripped through her heart, but she held back. She tilted her chin up for a kiss and blinked.

They had to stop. Her mind raced. His dead wife's diary was under her covers. Erica bit her lower lip. She had to get rid of it somehow. She'd throw it under the bed.

Involuntarily, her passions took over, and she ran her hand up his arms to his shoulders as she held him closer. She needed him.

Then he kissed her proffered neck, and she thrust her chest up and squirmed to let him brush against her hardening nipples through her lacy top.

Slowly, her hands went above her head, and she lifted off her shirt to give him all of her.

As he suckled, a soft sigh escaped her lips. She unzipped her pants and wiggled them free. He did the same.

He knew what he was doing, and her skin craved more. No man had ever caused her to lose control this fast.

Before she became adrift without her ability to think, she pushed the diary from under her covers to behind the bedpost. She stifled a moan of pleasure and adjusted the pillow higher. A small cry came out of her mouth and covered the small thump that ensued.

"What was that?"

With a shrug, she sat up and captured his lips in a kiss. A moment later, he held her waist firmer, and she relaxed.

Nothing stood in their way. His fingers trailed lower on her body, near her moist center. She whispered in his ear, "This is better than my dreams of you."

"Dreams?" He picked up her hips to bring her closer to his warm body. "I like that."

"You're the only thing in my life that's not a nightmare." She ran her hands ran through his hair. Her lips took in the salty taste of his skin.

The hardness of him excited her, and her fingers ached to touch him everywhere. There was something dark and magical in him that her body responded to. No man built up this much need, and she never let go, not like this. A delightful shiver coursed through her.

Hungry for him, she trailed her mouth down his neck, and his hands found her inner channel, swollen and ready for him.

Her cheek brushed against his smirk. "You're ready for me."

In a dare, she brushed her hips on his enlarged erection, then told him, "So are you."

With his eyebrows arched, he shifted to rub his manhood on her clit.

She dropped her head back and moaned. His fingers circled her entrance and sent molten-hot flames with every move.

Her eyes rolled back. He continued to toy with her body. He kissed her neck, which sent thrills of desire to the inner part of her soul.

Slowly, she lost all sense of control. To bring that moment to life, she took charge and pushed herself onto him.

There was no return now.

He pulled back, then kissed her forehead. He rolled on a condom.

Wow, she'd been so lost that she'd forgotten that. She'd never forgotten safety before. But then, she'd forgotten to enjoy any moments of life for a long time.

The second he returned, she kissed him on the lips.

Finally, he entered her, and she lost the ability to speak. She could only moan.

He set a torturously slow, then suddenly fast pace. Her body and his pulsed in rhythm. And all she could do was respond. She called out his name before she lost all sense of anything but the waves of pleasure coursing through her.

# Chapter 6

A huge boom echoed in Erica's bedroom.

As she sat up in bed, she flinched at the loud noise.

She glanced around her bedroom and squeezed her knees to her chest. Pine and cedar clung to the pillow next to other. She was alone. She inhaled Gabriel's manly scent, then swallowed and stared out the window. A huge breath relaxed her. The noise must have been a tree falling outside. As she tugged the blanket up to cover her nakedness, she trekked over to her window. White snow, and only white snow, all the way up beyond the last pane.

The tree lay in the snow-covered distance. Last night's whiteout revealed the brightness of pure, fresh powder snow. Mystery solved. Dizzy, she rubbed her hand on her head as she rolled back into bed. She didn't need to face today.

Ice crept up her back anyhow. They were truly trapped now. Alone.

Her insides quivered from earlier activity, and she wasn't tired. Not really. If Gabriel were in the room, she'd have curled into him. But he wasn't here, and she needed to peak out the door to know how bad it was outside.

She stared at her cell phone. Her mother never slept much, and Erica needed her sage advice now more than ever. She sighed. Mom had experience with men. She had to find a signal today. Her mother needed her, and she needed her mom.

To build her courage, Erica reminisced. In Miami, hurricanes didn't last that long. And the weather was usually sunny and warm. Pretty much the opposite of this house, all darkness and cold.

A chill raced through her spine.

The wind gushed past the window. This time she hardly blinked.

She ought to go and find Gabriel. Her mother would say that to make a life decision, it was best to really know the guy. Was he interested in a short-term nothing, or was he interested in her?

Her throat was dry. She gulped, then went to the closet to throw on clothes. Anything would be fine. She found a pair of sweats that didn't cover her ankles, a long T-shirt, a robe, and long socks to throw on. Her phone had less than 10 percent battery life left now, and she held the small, white metallic lifeline firmly in her hand. As she stepped into the slippers, she locked her arms together and intended to take her disheveled look upstairs.

She'd never been snowed in. This only happened to people in movies—horror movies, especially. Her throat constricted. Before she freaked out, she ran her hand through her hair and straightened out a knot. Then she bundled the blanket on her shoulders. Everything would be fine.

Gabriel must be in his room with the door locked. She eyed his door first. She'd never gone in there, but first she needed to go out to see how high the snow went up the side of the house. And then she'd find a way to make that call.

In the kitchen she stopped to find a candle and extra matches. The promised flashlight wasn't in the library yet, which was another reason to find Gabriel.

The phone in her hand heated. She'd deal with logistics later. A smile grew on her face. Perhaps another kiss too.

Either way, at the library door, she stopped, took a moment, then opened it. It would be beyond frigid out there. Was polar a temperature? She rewrapped her blanket around her shoulders, and ensured it stayed tight around her. Then she lit the candle and proceeded out into the lobby.

A draft ran through her hair, and her nose wrinkled from the cold. She took a step forward, but her body stiffened. The bay window, which gleamed white, shone back at her. Was the house strong enough if another storm hit?

Outside the window, the ground sounded like there was an army battle. A chill rocked her body; then she flinched at the noise. Did icicles make that sound as they fell off trees and houses?

She steeled her nerves and held the banister firmly, then climbed the large staircase. She needed to see out and find a signal. Her fingers froze halfway up the stairs, but she kept up her obstinate climb. Another draft of chilly air hit her, and she clutched her candle closer and refused to let the creaks of the old staircase stop her.

At the next level, she pursed her lips and read the numbers on the room doors. This had definitely been a hotel once, though she had no idea what would have closed this place down. For a ski resort, this place was perfect. They had a mountain, snow, and a well-built lodge. Something bad must have happened. Something that paralyzed Gabriel from living his life. With slow, steady steps, she tried the first door, but it didn't budge much.

She checked her phone. No signal came here, but perhaps near a window she'd get service.

The hotel room lock still worked. Her heartbeat stayed rapid and fast.

Something wasn't right up here. Her skin prickled.

The second door opened. She hesitated for a moment, then pushed into the room. A rush of mildew entered her nose and made her sneeze.

The battery was down to 9 percent. Soon she'd lose even this hope.

With tense muscles, she continued to walk toward the window, but the flame in her candle blew out.

Finally, she had a signal. A smile grew on her face and her heart raced a bit. The battery went lower. The lights of the phone kept her sane, and she quickly dialed her mother's room at the hospital. On the second ring, her mom said, "Erica, is that you?"

"Mom," she cried out. Thank goodness. She had a connection. "I'm lost."

"Where?" He mother sounded calm and concerned. Erica almost cried.

"Maine. Mom, I miss you."

Total blackness greeted her, and she backed up. Her phone flashed to the red battery and read 0 percent. _No._ She needed more time. She gulped and repeated, "Mom?"

No answer greeted her. She twisted her hand. The phone turned off and went black.

Ice went up her spine. Had her mother heard her? The blackness of the room was eerie and quiet. Goose bumps grew on her arms. She reached in her pocket and retrieved a box of matches. Her fingers froze. The fire didn't light the first time. She breathed on her clammy hands, and fought to slow her increased heart rate. Then she tried again.

With near-frozen limbs, this time she lit it. The candle brought back light, and she rubbed her arms. To finish her search, she continued to the window. Hypnotized, she peered outside the window to the winter wonderland. Then cold, small hands pushed her. She screamed, and the candle fell to her feet.

In a heartbeat, she scrambled around, but no one was here in the room with her. She picked up the candle and lit it again. Nothing stirred. She must be crazy, but it felt like the hands on her back had been tiny.

As she rubbed her hand on her forehead, she assumed it was just her nerves, and her heartbeat slowly reduced its rapid pace.

Perhaps she ought to find Gabriel. His hands were big, manly, and warm. She tugged the blanket closer to her neck, covered her face, and blew on her hands again to heat her nose. She swallowed and tried to stop the panic, but she scouted for an exit to escape. She knew where the exit was. She knew this was the panic. She was about to hyperventilate.

Her mind numbed. Gabriel wouldn't hear her up here. No one would, though she wondered if someone was staring at her from the blackness. The thought grew in her mind, like someone was here and wanted her dead. Her entire body shook. No. This was impossible. If someone else were here . . . but that made no sense. She retreated backward and her skin crawled. Someone must hate her.

She had to be fine. She had to. It was not like she had another choice.

No one could be in here with her.

Her head continued to ring. This wasn't a good sign. As she clutched her blanket onto her shoulders, she fought her fear to get back downstairs in one piece.

It was just snow and animals outside. Nothing else was here. She'd be fine.

No one else was here except for her and Gabriel.

The rapturous man who made her feel alive. She licked her lips. His kisses warmed her. The smell of pine on him had calmed her before, and she let the thought of him sustain her. She needed to stop, and shook her head. The walls had a vibe of hatred, and no matter where she turned, every cell on her body was alert to danger. She ran her hand through her hair as she ran. She wished to be in his arms while she made it to the last step down. She took a deep breath and stopped her whiny voice in her head. Panic didn't help anything. She had never needed a hero to save her.

As she opened the library, the wind behind her blew the door shut. With a small struggle, she made her way back into the warmth.

Her legs went weak. She fell to the ground near the fireplace and let her racing thoughts still. The labor in her every inhalation wasn't normal for her. The light from the fire kept the room warm. The doors were closed and no one was here.

Her every heartbeat was loud in her ears.

At least she was back. She sat up and tucked her knees to her chest, as her heart stopped its frantic race.

After last night, Gabriel should have gone out of his way to find her.

Perhaps it was time to find another way out of here.

Upstairs, the storm, and the past few days had built up that panic. Her mother's voice had been the best thing she heard in days. She'd be fine. Her mother needed her. If Erica stayed focused, the hospital and her mother would sink into her brain as a weight. Everything would work out. She needed to keep the faith. She'd find a way to keep her mother alive.

Gabriel had left her alone all day. She liked him, but he should have checked on her. Perhaps she'd check on him, in the spring, away from this creepy house.

Her skin was raw as her mind raced to judge. Her car was on the road. She'd made it here. She could make it back.

She stared out the window. No sign of a storm remained. It was just the snow now. She'd need supplies if she was to make it out of this house alone through the whiteness and back to civilization.

Her breasts ached.

Perhaps this wasn't the best plan, but she had no other. She'd not stay in this haunted, desolate place. She'd not think of the sexy man somewhere inside.

Perhaps if the snow melted, this nightmare would end. Gabriel might be normal, if not for these walls. She'd look him up.

She owed him her thanks. She was alive, and he had warmed her. Everything had to work out. The storm wouldn't get her.

And no one was here with her—no one except the man she wanted.

# Chapter 7

For the next few hours, Erica could not find Gabriel.

Dusk settled in the sky.

Soon it would be night. She'd leave in the morning. And she should say good-bye.

In her room, she took a nap.

Gabriel had to come back eventually.

Eventually though, she woke up. Her stomach gnawed with heaviness. She refused to let the emptiness inside her win. Everything always worked out in the end. She'd believed that all her life, and she hadn't changed. Erica Mira fought for herself, and everyone else she loved. The way to win so far had always been to remain assertive.

Though her muscles were weak, she fought off the fear that nothing in her life would ever be the same. She always banked on truths. Gabriel was around, somewhere, and no one wanted to kill her. The quietness of this house was too quiet for her taste. These were two truths. She let out an audible exhale and shook out her crazy fears. As she stood on her feet, she stretched, then wrapped her robe around her. Halfway done, she stopped.

No more phone calls home. Not unless Gabriel hid a phone here. She shook her head and tied her robe. Could she make it back to her car to get her charger?

The chill that someone hated her here racked her body, and her legs went weak. She rubbed her neck and hoped warmth would end these thoughts.

She stared in the mirror and forced a smile. Fake it until she made it had always worked in the past. She threw on her shirt and decided to speak more with Gabriel, and not just for more amazing sex. He couldn't hate her, not like that emotional sickness that hit her hard in this house.

With him, she felt safe.

Had she made up the hands on her back as an excuse to go and find him? Erica froze. She had never done anything like that in her life.

She closed her eyes and let herself relax. The man had strength of character and body, which was more than any of her ex-boyfriend's. A friend once mentioned a man good in bed had had his penis dipped in fairy dust. In the tall tale of men, he'd know where to put it to make her scream.

Erica giggled. Gabriel must be one of those men women whispered about, because his coarse fingers sent her pulse racing. Ravishing men were too hard to find, and he fit the definition.

As she ran her hand through her hair, she felt more knots.

The man would prefer a clean woman, and she'd be more comfortable that way anyhow. Cold sweats shouldn't rack her body. She'd had a fitful nap. She'd been half-frightened of shadows.

She dropped the blanket and her nightclothes on the ground. Then she pressed her elbows into her side and stared around. In the mirror, she glanced at someone all in white. Erica rubbed her arms and twirled on her feet toward the door. No one was here. She was alone. She shook off the eeriness. She must have made up the woman as a figment of her imagination. The nightmare here never seemed to end. She rolled her shoulders, then headed into the en suite bathroom.

A loud, long screech echoed in her ears. Her heart raced.

She coughed, then grabbed the side of the door frame. "Who's here?"

Her gaze took in the entire room again, but she didn't see anyone near.

Gabriel wouldn't answer.

She was alone.

She stared out the window. The wind shook the glass windows a little, but that wasn't the same sound. Perhaps she'd heard an animal in pain? She blinked and gazed farther out into the wilderness. She saw no wolves or animals, but nothing else made sense.

With no answer, she shook it off and closed the door to the bathroom. She'd leave with sweeter memories and cherish tonight. If she seduced him with food and company, her fears would be proved pointless. But she'd not befriend him, or anyone, if she didn't like how she appeared.

Besides, she didn't have anything else to do.

A good hot shower cured sore muscles, and she picked out an outfit that matched and would at least flatter her figure. This included her freshly cleaned jeans. For shirts and other clothing, the selection remained slim. The petite, dead wife's clothing wouldn't fit her hips or breasts well. Despite that, a genuine burst of happiness grew inside her. Dressed in a blue T-shirt and jeans, she peeked in the mirror and stared at herself again. Almost normal. Even her skin had color back in it now. Good. As she sucked on her lower lip, she left her room and headed toward the kitchen to make them dinner.

The moment she saw Gabriel, everything else would be lighter around her. She should have found him today already.

Why had he disappeared?

Company would keep her heart calm. His body had been warm. At the kitchen bay window, she stared out at a wall of white outside the glass panes. A chill raced throughout her body, and with that came those crazy thoughts she continued to have.

A gaze seemed to follow her, and Erica froze.

Night was approaching fast. At least it hadn't snowed today. She let her hands fall to her sides and relax.

If she had to leave in the morning, a night without a storm helped her cause.

In the kitchen, she turned on the oven and opened the refrigerator to prepare tonight's feast. She became steady and sure of herself again.

Later that evening, she searched the rooms and knocked on his bedroom door. Gabriel was not in the living areas. She hadn't seen him all day, and that was strange. Last night might have meant more to her than him. She shivered and refused to think that thought.

In the library, she wondered what part of the house he'd crept away toward. She paced the halls and continued her search.

In the hall back to the kitchen, she tilted her head to the side and searched the place. A bang pierced the air. She stilled for the moment. Then she stared at the wall. Was there someone else?

As she pressed her ear to the wall, she heard the hum of a machine that cut something. At least, that was what she'd guess it was. The sound of mechanics might scare someone else, but it meant power, electricity, and Gabriel. What would be in those machines? Suddenly, she flinched. _No one can cut snow._

Gabriel must be working with machines somewhere in the bigger house. He had smelled of wood, and his hands were black the other day.

A clink of something from the other side of the empty room ran through the air.

Her hands went clammy, and she had another chest pain. Her mind raced. Someone who wished to harm her stared at her, hidden away. She took a step away from one wall and braced like someone would come out of another.

With her hand to her collar, she shook off the thought. _Walls don't hold people._

No one could climb through that mountain of snow to get to the pair of them. Her impossible thoughts didn't add up. She rubbed her arms to chase the cold away.

Then she headed back to the kitchen and prepped their dinner. Maybe he'd come later. As she chopped, her shoulders slumped.

"Hey, how are you?" she asked herself.

Then she answered how she wished Gabriel would answer. "Fine. You look nice today."

She hugged herself for one minute, but at least the ache that someone would attack her dissipated.

The chop of her knife with the onion echoed in the air. Done. She stared into the darkened hall, and she had a longing so intense in her stomach that it became a real pain.

Gabriel never came to dinner, though she made him a plate. Loneliness sucked. She shook her head. Had she made a huge mistake last night?

If so, it was more reason to go.

Without a smile, she wrapped him his dinner, then cleaned up her plate. She wasn't tired, so she went to the library to find a book. He couldn't have gone far and at some point would have to surface.

Hopefully good food would soften his heart and bring him back toward her. Last night had been intense. Today had been the opposite, and she ought to confront him once more.

If everything was horrible, perhaps she could climb down the mountain herself and go somewhere else.

As she chose from the selection of books, she hoped to find the book most read. Her heartbeat jumped. Maybe if she read it, then Gabriel would talk to her.

_Wuthering Heights_ caught her eye. She had seen the movie. Perhaps the book was good.

She picked her book and settled on the couch, then her body numbed. What if something happened to him? It had been a long time since she'd last seen him. What if when he left her bed, he left? The questions tore through her.

Tears formed in her eyes. She'd be stuck all alone.

A few hours later, she returned to her room. The snow didn't glisten outside her window, but a howl rattled in the air. She ransacked his house and piled supplies in her bedroom. Tomorrow, she'd have to find out how to survive snow-covered mountains and trek her way to safety. He had never found her. She found too small boots, rackets to attach to the boots, though she'd add her dried sneakers into a backpack, and a ski suit. The tight-fitting black outfit would keep her warm. Tomorrow, she'd face nature. It would be better than being ignored. She zipped the bag she'd borrowed containing her supplies and rubbed her arms together.

She needed to talk. As she changed out of her clothes and into a nightgown again, she turned and expected to see someone staring at her.

Naked, she held her nightgown to her body, and called out, "Hello?"

Her door creaked open and revealed a half-dressed Gabriel. She made the sign of the cross, then smiled at him. She let out a sigh. "I thought something happened to you."

His dark eyes held a deep, intense fire in them as he held himself together. "You made me dinner. It was good. Thank you."

"I forgot about that." Warmth near him sent her heart a thrill. She had so much to say, but instead of everything else, her mouth answered of its own accord. "You're the only one I have to talk to here. I need to see you more."

His entire body didn't move from the door before he averted his gaze. "It's not a good idea. I'm not a good choice for you."

She lifted her chin and stared. "I decide that for myself, Gabriel. I'm an adult."

His eyes lifted and stared hard at her. She noticed the hunger in his eyes. She stopped for a moment, then added, "I missed you today."

"You shouldn't." His intensity was palpable and far more intense than food. "I'm not good for anyone, especially someone good like you."

_Good_ was nondescriptive. Little girls were good or bad. She held back that thought and asked the question she needed an answer to. "What happened to you?"

His eyes were almost black now. "There is much you don't know, and I can't tell you."

She lifted her chin. "I need a reason."

He shook his head. "It's better for us both if you accept that I'm not someone you can bring home or fix."

Yes, he was. Something inside her refused to believe and leave things as they were. He had saved her, and he deserved to leave this house too. Whatever happened to him was in the past, and if he opened up, they could both have something deeper and more meaningful in their futures. She licked her lips. "Wherever you do during the day, I want to go with you."

He shook his head again. "You're safe here."

In a bold move, she dropped her nightgown and inhaled a deep breath. His jaw dropped, and he stared at her. If she had to go, then she needed one more night of heaven. "I want you with me."

"You'd tempt a saint." His eyes grew warmer. She lifted one shoulder. He stared at her and walked across the floor. Every footstep made a small noise in the wood. Close now, he claimed her lips in a kiss.

She wrapped her hands around him and refused to let him go. The rough skin of his hands warmed her silky arms. His hands went around her back, and her entire body came alive.

The electric storm he brought out in her had to be enough to keep her safe. He picked her up and laid her on the bed without another word.

This was it.

Tomorrow, she'd leave.

# Chapter 8

Erica checked her bags one more time before she zipped up her ski jacket. She rubbed her chin. The rackets she found would help her keep the snow out of her boots.

Gabriel had once again disappeared all day. She poked her tongue in her cheek. She had no time to wait for him. She picked up her bag and then decided to stop in the library. There had to be paper in the desk. She'd leave him a note. The last two nights had shown her that sex could be enjoyable. He was good at it, and if he weren't so closed off, she'd be interested. More than interested, truth be told. Erica rolled her shoulders. She never chased men who were not interested in her, and she'd not continue down this path with Gabriel.

The room grew quiet and no noise echoed.

Something about Gabriel's pained expression tore at her resolve. Erica closed her eyes and remembered his kiss. Her lips tingled again just from the thought. She had flutters in her stomach. She opened her eyes, and with all the layers of clothes she felt more like she waddled out the door instead of walked.

Two feet into the hall, she started to sweat. The clothes were hot. She unzipped her jacket, but the ski pants stifled her. She'd have to be fast with that note. She continued her pace, stopped in his kitchen, and packed a few items to eat outside. Fresh apples, bananas, and granola bars would get her through. She placed her backpack on the table, took the items, then decided she'd leave her address in the note as well. She'd pay him back every dime and every item that she took. Constant work meant she wasn't broke.

Once done, she picked her bag up again and headed toward the library. Her vision clouded for a moment. Then she gazed directly at the desk and stilled. She had never written a good-bye letter. She had avoided good-bye e-mails as well. With her shoulders back, she brushed past her self-doubts. She dropped the bag on the sofa and continued toward the desk. Soon enough she sat down, found paper, and wrote.

_Gabriel,_

She tapped the pen to her mouth. She couldn't decide what to say. Her thoughts were frozen. She closed her eyes, took a moment to reflect, opened her eyes, and then nodded.

_Finding your house saved my life. I owe you, and not just for the supplies. You are an amazing person._

She sucked her bottom lip in her mouth. Perhaps it was too much. She needed to stop. If she sat here, tore up the sheet, and started again, she'd lose her nerve. She gazed at the white walls. No, she'd not stay. Instead she finished with good-bye, call me, and my address is.

She threw the paper on the desk and sat up. She better not pour her heart out on a page. Erica Mira never needed anyone to complete her. She had always been fine on her own, and she'd not wish to be different.

Gabriel had told her to stay away, and now, she would.

Done. She stood up and went to pick up her bag. Halfway to the couch, she heard a muffled scream. Erica's head rocked back and forth. She clenched her jaw. The sound had been so close. She gulped and realized the creepy house might have ghosts or something strange inside it. None of that mattered, because she was leaving.

She took the last few steps, retrieved her bag, and headed out of the warm apartment into the frigid portion of the house. Her skin chilled, and she zipped up her jacket and fixed the scarf around her neck.

Her car was a few miles downhill. It had to be easier to get down. The walk up had been hard. The only hills in Florida were trash heaps, and everyone avoided those.

She opened the front door. The snow was piled as high as her the top of the door. She took a deep breath, then decided to step up. Her steps were heavy. Snow fell inside the lobby, but she pressed herself farther up. She was needed elsewhere, and Gabriel preferred his own company to hers.

On the third try, it felt like small hands helped push her outside. Erica flew into the air and leaped out into the snow. What was that? Had she imagined a ghost's help?

Her entire body shook, and she had tingles in her chest. The wind pushed her backward, and the bitterness of the wind made the cold unbearable. All she had in her favor was a bright sun and its reflection on the whiteness. She blinked to try to feel her face, but her eyes stung. Her fingers were ice cold. Perhaps this had been a mistake.

She turned around to go back to the door, but the wind slammed it shut.

Clearly the ghosts in that house wanted her to go. She swallowed. Her stomach roiled. She'd miss Gabriel's arms around her.

Perhaps that was a sign that she wasn't wanted there, and that she could make her way back to her car and to civilization. She turned away and headed toward the wilderness and the mountain trail. She walked with her hands on her stomach.

Every step took effort. She gazed everywhere, like something else stalked her as its prey. She had a sour taste in her mouth.

The howl in the distance was definitely an animal. She froze and hoped the animal and she both had the same "steer clear" intentions. The goose bumps on her arms had to be from the cold. She wished time would speed up, but she held herself together and pressed on.

Every step in the snow took even more tremendous effort. Less than half an hour into her trek, the chalet was still the biggest thing in sight, and her legs tingled. She was dizzy and her arms were shaky. She pressed her lips together and decided this had been a mistake.

Her ears buzzed with a motor, but she didn't see anything. Her imagination had Gabriel following her to get her out of this bitter wind.

In Gabriel's house he had a warm fire that invited her to sit. If he wasn't interested in her, then he had plenty of books to entertain her until the storm broke.

The noises of the house could be lots of secret passageways, but if the animals couldn't get to her, then she was fine.

A howl echoed in the air.

Out here, the animals might see her as dinner. She rocked on her feet.

The clouds darkened overhead, and the chill in the air grew. She turned around and stared at the house's multiple stories. It was time to go back. She was big enough to admit she'd been wrong.

She turned around, but then she froze. Something growled behind her, and whatever animal it was, its snarl grew louder. Her muscles tensed and understood the threat.

Was it a wolf?

She whimpered. Then she licked her lips and decided to get canned food out of her bag. Would a wild animal accept the food? Panic raced through her, and she turned back around.

The yellow eyes in a white wolf stared back at her. Her hands jammed into her armpits. She stifled a scream, but the animal barked and jumped closer to her.

Her adrenaline spiked, and her stomach was rock hard. She took a step back and waved her arms at it. "I'm going. I won't hurt you."

The wolf growled, followed, and then pounced.

She yelled as the animal tore through her clothes. She fell backward, and the beast tried to bite her. Her feeble hands fought back, and she twisted to get away from it. The rough of its fur fueled her. She pushed at its neck and yelled, "Get off. This is not going to happen."

"Erica."

Gabriel's voice echoed in her ears. Her heart raced and almost exploded in her chest. She clutched her hands to strike harder, but then something whizzed past her. She jumped in that instant, and then the animal cried.

"Don't move," he called out, and then her heartbeat became the only thing she could hear. She lost her ability to speak.

She gazed at the wolf, which had a huge dart in its neck.

Her shoulders were tight. More yellow eyes of animals came out from the woods. She stared at the certain danger and tried to breathe. She wanted to run toward Gabriel and hide. The wolf that just attacked her now slumped to its side. Gabriel must have tranquilized it.

She stood. The crisp smell of the air was animals and pine. Her nose was almost frozen off her face. She tried to stay still and not engage the animals, but then she jerked the wrong way and lost her balance.

She fell backward into the snow and blinked. The wolf that attacked her snarled as it laid in the snow and his legs tried to run though they weren't pointed to the ground. She pressed her elbows to her side, but then stopped. On its back, the wolf was less scary.

In the distance, its friends chose this moment to charge toward. "What do we do?"

Gabriel revved up the engine to his snowmobile and reached out for her. "Give me your hand."

At least he could fly. She reached behind her. Her eyes widened. Gabriel picked her up and pressed her into his back. She grabbed her backpack and tugged it on tight. His warmth near the back of her neck calmed her despite her chest, which hitched. Her entire body was stiff but she complied with his every hand move.

Then he pressed on the gas, and they flew past the wolves. She couldn't see anything, but the wolves chased them. She yelped and gripped his chest as tightly as she could.

Gabriel sped up, even faster. The wind broke like icicles on her face. She swallowed. Did all snowmobiles go this fast? She blinked and tried to understand. Her head was light at the moment.

The blades of the machine flew through the powdered snow, and the mountain of white that grew from their race to the house hypnotized her. Gabriel's strong, muscular arms clutched both some gear that controlled their every glide forward, and her. She was disoriented, but almost euphoric.

The scurry of animals sounded like they chased them, but Gabriel stopped the machine suddenly and turned them both around. She took a harder stare at his buttocks. What would he do now? Ice ran through her spine. The wolf had been stronger than her. Her skin tingled.

Without warning, he straightened her back on his shoulder and held something above her. She closed her eyes, and thought it was the gun. She chewed on her lip. She held still until the air popped with activity. A cartridge that read "tranquilizer" dropped next to his snowmobile.

Then he glided forward again, and she couldn't speak. She leaned closer to him. They flew across the snow.

Then he stopped, and the wind wasn't at her back. He helped her off the machine to stand, and she rubbed her neck. She hadn't seen this part of the house.

She wobbled on her feet, and her head was light. He dragged the heavy machine and hooked it to a rope to bring it inside. She should help him, but her head was floating off her body. She took a step back to steady herself.

He stood up, pushed a door open, shoved her inside the darkness, and closed the door in her face. "What were you doing?"

Her lips parted. "Leaving. It was a bad idea."

All light was gone. She opened her mouth to say something, but then he shoved himself inside with her. The bang in her ears was from his skis, which he dropped somewhere. She tried to catch her breath, but he knelt down and untied her shoes. "Why would you risk your life like that?"

She pressed her hand to her chest. Her mind cleared, and she told him, "I wasn't thinking clearly."

"You were going to get killed." He grunted and tugged her shoe off. Her foot was padded from socks she found, but her skin reacted to him like he'd brushed against her. "We're trapped here, Erica. If I hadn't found you in that second, you'd be dead. You're going to have to be patient until the snow melts."

The image of the yellow eyes would haunt her for years. Her hand covered her mouth. Patience wasn't a virtue she had, but she nodded. "Thank you."

"Don't go and get yourself killed." He shook his head. "I don't want more trouble."

"What trouble?" She helped kick her second shoe off. He stood up, took her hand, and guided her down the hall. A wide smile grew on her face.

He didn't answer.

She followed, but asked him again, "What sort of trouble?"

He shook his head. How she saw that in the darkness made no sense, but he picked up their pace. "Women get strange up here. I wonder if it's the thinner air."

"I'm not like your wife." The hallway became clear, and the smell of freshly cut wood filled her nostrils. Then she sneezed.

"No, you are not, but we're not discussing her." He held her hand in his grip and led her through another hall. Her head spun with how many ways they had turned, but then they were in the lobby. It was cold, and the picture of the blonde woman stared back at her. The blue eyes stared hard, and she swore they watched her every move. "This house makes me crazy."

Erica stayed still, but Gabriel opened the library door and dragged her back into the warmth. "I don't know which part of this house is the source, but I will find it."

The crackle of the fire caught her stare, and she unzipped her jacket. She was back. "You will?"

He kept his lips sealed. If Gabriel refused to talk to her the entire time she was here, she'd have to find out what he meant. He was hiding something.

He took her backpack and headed out of the room.

He'd be back. Their conversation wasn't over.

She undressed down to one layer of clothing and crawled to the rug next to the fireplace.

Heat filled her face, and for the first time all day, she breathed.

Once again, he'd saved her.

# Chapter 9

"Erica, get undressed. I'll get you hot chocolate." Gabriel's command reverberated throughout her body, though she was already half-finished undressing.

She took off her hat and ran her hand through her matted hair. Her nose was runny and probably bright red. She was in no mood for sex at the moment. The best she could offer was to talk. Her cheeks alone felt like icicles as she brushed her static hair back behind her head. "I'll take that hot chocolate, but I need to catch my breath."

His voice echoed through the rooms. "I need to clean your shoulder with alcohol, so you don't get an infection."

Her shoulder? She glanced to her left and saw how her jacket and ski outfit were torn and she had deep scratches. The sting grew. She lowered her head. How had she missed that? Her hands clenched, and she yelled out, "Do wolves have rabies?"

He came back in the room with a hot chocolate, a cloth, bandages, and rubbing alcohol. He leaned against the door and shook his head. "Do I have to strip you again?"

"No. Do they have rabies?" She shook her head and tried to stand up a bit. Her knees were weak.

"They might, but they might not. I can give you a shot."

The jacket slipped off without trouble, and her shoulder heated. She tried to lift her fleece, but her shoulder was hot and stiff. Her chest hitched. "Ouch. Are you a doctor?"

He walked over and stood in front of her. He stared at the redness of her shoulder and grimaced. Then he lined up everything on the table beside her. "Stand up for me, and no, I'm not a doctor. I keep supplies in case I get stuck for the winter."

She swallowed. He intended to help her, again. She pressed a fist to her lips. She owed him too much already. "I can do this."

He stood with his hands at his sides. "It will be faster and easier if I help. You're bleeding on the furniture."

She blinked, and her cheeks were wet. Then she nodded. "Okay, Captain. Do this fast and get it done. Are you sure the shot is safe?"

"You're a trooper." His hands went to her waist and to the fleece. "What will sting is the alcohol."

She lifted her hands to help him, but the second the fleece tugged at her raw skin, she yelped. Then she shook her head and her chin trembled. "Will I be okay if you give that shot?"

"One more time, Erica. You're the bravest woman I've ever met and you will be fine." With his hands at her waist, she twisted a bit and closed her eyes. His fingers wrapped around her sweater. Even through her T-shirt, the brush of his palms made every part of her aware of his every move. Then he lifted. She tried to help and lift her hand, but her shoulder burned.

He kissed her forehead and told her, "This last one will be easier. Your shirt is already pretty ripped."

She choked out her words. "You . . . said . . . the . . . last . . . one was the last."

"We need to clean the wound before everything settles. Right now your skin is half-frozen, but if we let it thaw out there will be even more pain and possible infection."

She nodded, and again, he wrapped his hands around her. This time her skin grew goose bumps, like she hoped he'd kiss her everywhere. Her face heated as he lifted. She was so disoriented. She was sure it wasn't because of her shoulder. He lifted her shirt, and at the sight of her shoulder, his smile faltered. She closed her eyes so she didn't have to see him give her a shot.

She felt a prick, but she stayed still. Her lungs constricted. "It burns a bit."

"You're okay. Open your eyes, Erica. We're done now." She followed his directions, but his hands were already on to the next task. He shook the alcohol bottle and poured some onto a towel.

"I thought we were done." She held her breath.

"I cleaned your arm to give you the shot. Now I need to clean the whole wound, so you don't get other infections."

He screwed the cap on the bottle, and she shook her head. Had time stopped? "Can't we skip that part? Or let me do it."

"I want to make sure you get everything." He stared at her shoulder. "I'll be right back."

She sucked in her lower lip a little deeper for a moment, and then realized her shoulder was pretty red. Her body collapsed inward. In the mirror, she saw a few spots in her shoulder where the animal's teeth must have punctured her skin. She pushed her bra strap to the side. Her throat was painful and tight now. The snap in the band stung her sore skin. She chewed on her lip to stop a cry, and stared at the rubbing alcohol. Soon, the pain lessened, and she could think. Should she wash herself? She gulped.

Then he walked back in with a bandage and a washcloth. She blinked at him. The intensity in his eyes held something else, something new. Empathy. Her face flushed a bit, but she knew her grimace remained. "Thank you, Gabriel."

"For what?" He took a seat opposite her and placed everything down except the washcloth.

He opened it and she stared at his large knuckles. He worked with his hands, and her skin burned a bit. He had worked her better than anyone else ever had. Her mouth fell open for a moment, but then he washed her shoulder.

She let out a long sigh, but the sting lessened the more he cleaned. Her skin was raw and sensitive as he removed the cloth. "There now. You can hold on to me to fight the sting."

He picked up the rubbing alcohol and doused the cloth. She nodded. Then she closed her eyes to not see. A few seconds later, her shoulder burned from the cloth. She screamed under her breath a bit and grabbed hold of his thigh. Her eyes watered but she refused to look.

"You can open your eyes. I'm done." His voice was gentle and sweet. She followed directions and stared into his smoldering eyes. Her heart beat a little off kilter in that second. "I just have to bandage you, but you should be fine."

She nodded, but her voice sounded shrill to her ears. "Are you sure the rabies shot will work?"

He squeezed her hand. "Relax, Erica. I'm more worried about other infections. Are you allergic to penicillin?"

"No." Her shoulders were less tense. "Do you have some?"

"Yeah. I want you to take a few pills, just to be safe." He rubbed her hand. "Everything will be fine. Don't try to run away and kill yourself."

Her eyes were a bit misty, but she'd not cry. "Don't disappear all day and leave me alone. Then I won't be so frightened."

"I'll come and check on you more often."

She sniffled. "Promise?"

"Yeah, don't be scared. I'll figure this place out." He sat back in his chair and stared at the door, not her. "There are things I need to do, and you can't be with me."

"Why?" Her eyes were not misty anymore. "I can help."

"There are things that, if you knew, would scare you even more than the animals outside." He stared back into her eyes again, and she saw the glimmer of hopelessness. "You're beautiful and untouched."

"No." She shook her head. "You've touched me, more than once."

His gaze turned upward a bit, and he tugged at his collar. "I meant pure and sweet. What happened here is why I'm still here, and why you can't help me."

"What happened?" She held on to his massive hand with both of her smaller ones. "Nothing you say will scare me more than this house."

He stood up and took his hand back. "I can't talk about it. You're safe if you stay in the apartment. Don't go looking for my troubles."

He stepped back. She stood up to chase him, but she saw how haunted he was. She gulped. He'd saved her life. She'd figure this out and help him too. She kept quiet, but her mind was made up. If she couldn't leave, then she'd help him.

Gabriel turned toward the kitchen and disappeared into the shadows. The snow outside the window grew again, but she refused to let anything else get to her.

He'd not stay gone forever. Determined to stay up, she drank her hot chocolate slowly. Then she lost track of time on that couch.

Footsteps echoed in the hall, and she blinked the sleep out of her eyes. The heavy steps became louder, and for a second goose bumps grew on her arm. The shadow of a person grew larger, and she forced her neck to hold her head straight. "Hello?"

"Why aren't you in bed?" Gabriel leaned against the door. His hands were wet, like he'd just washed them.

She gulped, then nodded. "I couldn't go to sleep after you stormed out on me."

"I'm exhausted." He took a step closer to her. "You had to be wiped after what happened to you."

He had tried to change the topic. She wouldn't get answers from him at the moment. Finally, she sagged her shoulders and said, "I don't want to go to sleep by myself."

"Do you want me to stay with you?" His eyes widened. "I thought after you left that I should steer clear of you."

"No." He stepped back. She bit her lip. "I mean, wait. I just need to know you're here, with me. We don't have to do anything."

He came forward a bit again. "But you left. I thought you left because of me."

"I don't know who I am with you, but you don't scare me." If she were here with him for a while, then later, she'd enjoy all of him. She yawned and inhaled his woodsy scent. Then she licked her lip. "Tonight, can you just stay with me in case I need something? I won't be too much trouble."

He reached out for her hands and massaged her palms. "You're no trouble at all."

He took a step backward, and she followed him. The day ended the opposite of how she'd planned, but for right now, she'd take what was offered. Gabriel was captivating, and if she woke up next to him, then she'd feel safe.

His warmth was the opposite of how this house freaked her out.

With him, there were no noises.

# Chapter 10

The sun on her face woke her up. Erica blinked, turned away from the window, and tilted her head. What time had he left her bed? The pillow he rested on kept only a slight warmth, but she could smell the woody scent he embedded in the sheets. Perhaps he'd been gone an hour? Even now, after he had been sweet and saved her life, he disappeared.

The buzz of machinery played in the walls.

Was he the ghost? Erica closed her eyes and listened to the noise. Her question made no sense. But why did she hear machinery in the walls? Her mind spun. Was Gabriel working on something? Or was that something else? She sat up and told herself to calm down and think straight.

The other day in the kitchen, his hands were dirty. Perhaps it was dirt and wood of a hard day's work that had scared her. He told her he would rip the house apart to find the secrets. She smiled and shook her head. Then she shut her eyes. Of course. She'd been scared over nothing.

She'd tell him about the diary and the secret room.

Her stupid fear was why she avoided haunted houses and scary movies. Next time, she'd ask Gabriel for more conversation. She'd tell him what she found. Yesterday proved one thing: she couldn't leave. But she refused to spend every day here with her hair raised on her neck. She already jumped at every noise in the house. Last night, she'd needed to listen to his steady heartbeat. Near him, her body relaxed. In life, Erica never ran around scared, and yesterday didn't sit well in her stomach.

To stop, she threw her hands up in the air and tried to release her frustrated energy. Her shoulder burned, and she rubbed it to stop the pain. Even this didn't help, and her frustration combined with the hurt.

In a hurry, she stormed out of her room fast, to see if Gabriel was still in the apartment. She should go and find wherever it was that he was working on the house.

Silence clung to the air. Again she approached his room, and she heard more of the same. Nothing.

The noise in the wall had to be him at work somewhere.

Eventually she turned around and rolled her eyes. He had disappeared again. She should have expected it. And what did he mean when he said she was safe here?

They were alone in the chateau, right?

Goose bumps grew on her arms. Hands had helped push her out the door the other day, and they were too small to be Gabriel's. Was that someone else? Or was there a ghost?

A yawn escaped her lips. She tapped her fingers on her wrist, then decided to try to get more sleep, not that she was tired. In a rush, she slammed her bedroom door shut. Then she marched back into bed and tugged the covers over her head to stop her headache. Her lack of clarity would go away the second her head straightened out.

This hadn't worked for her, and until she'd been here, she'd never been lazy.

Something else had happened in this house.

The tightness in her chest didn't go away, and she sat back up. She blew air out of her mouth and renamed the emotion _frustration_. With a sigh, she shook her head.

Her mother needed Erica to be the strong, collected one. But now she was lost. And the one other person, Gabriel, had left.

She was mad at herself. Why had she not scheduled their next talk? Loneliness sucked, and she was definitely lonely here. How had her sister disappeared years ago?

Erica gazed at the white snow in the window. She was slightly scared that snow would never melt. Sure, she knew irrational thoughts all swirled in her head, but it stayed in the center of her thoughts.

With dramatic flair, she sat up in her bed. She scrubbed her hand over her head and remembered the diary. Perhaps in his wife's diary, there was a clue to whatever he wouldn't tell her. She didn't know much about Gabriel. She'd like more information on the man who made her heart beat faster. At the very least, his dead wife would leave a few clues about his personality and what he liked. She reached under the bed to fish out the book from where she tossed it.

A squeak cried in the air, and it wasn't the bed.

What was that? She flinched, then stared immediately at the mirror. The squeak seemed to come from behind it, but a moment later nothing stirred. The white noise of the machines was still in the distance. Finally, she pulled out the diary and opened to the first page.

_Marriage is not all it's cracked up to be when married to a Marine. It means long bouts of no sex._

Erica shrugged and assumed the wife to be a fickle woman. When he was home, he'd have bottled-up energy like she'd experienced, and the memories of his touch made her forget every other boyfriend she'd ever had.

Her smile grew wider. She'd settle for a few years with no sex and never complain if the reward was Gabriel. She'd already experienced the wait with her long bout of celibacy, until she met Gabriel. Perhaps she'd spent too much time in hospitals over the past few years. But Gabriel excited her the minute her eyes glanced at him. All he had to do was walk toward her and her body temperature soared.

With a laugh, Erica realized that most men, in her opinion, were not memorable enough to think about after the big act happened.

Gabriel was amazing.

She continued reading.

_Gabriel must never know. At least I had some relief. His brother Raphael and I continued our affair under his nose. Gabriel is so busy, he never noticed what I did or who I did. This has been so easy. The wall in the library gave way as he pushed me up against it. That moment was both erotic and scary. With Raphael still inside me, we uncovered one of my husband's many secrets. The old hotel had secrets he never knew about, and I could use that against him, like keeping the affair an intimate moment that Gabriel would never find. No man controls me. I dictate my life. My marriage will end on my terms, and no one else's. Gabriel is not allowed to get a divorce._

With a gasp, Erica brought her knees up to her chest and covered her mouth. Gabriel's wife had an affair with his brother? What secrets did she think Gabriel had? He seemed a decent man. Poor Gabriel must have eventually found out about this betrayal. Those were lines that should not be crossed.

She stared at the door for a second. If the diary was here, then could the secret room be in this place, or had they lived somewhere else? If it was here, were there more? If she found the room, would she discover what pained Gabriel?

No. Not yet. She'd finish. So she flipped the page and read the rest of this entry.

_I marked the wall with my nail polish and pushed a bookshelf to the side with Raphael's help. The man has a glorious body, all muscular, and his shoulders were made for a football player. To be truthful, Gabriel's were too hard from the Marines. I married him for his money and good looks, knowing he'd be perfect because he's never home. The Marines were supposed to kill him, not send him home. Raphael, though, is becoming the man I love in bed. It took me a while to figure out the right cocktail to get him there. His guilt makes this whole thing more enjoyable. He has no choice but to love me. Everyone should love me. We now have the perfect place to be alone, and I'm so happy. The entire chateau might have secret compartments, but this one is all we need. Growing up, my parents had a secret bunker built into their home too. I always hid everything in my life there and made sure no one caught on. Like Gabriel, my parents tried to tell me to live my life with a moral code. Who did they think they were? Anyhow, my life is what matters now. Raphael is the best lover. Gabriel has become immune to my charms, and he's lost his usefulness. Getting Raphael, now that was fun, and every time he protested, but he soon became my toy to do with as I please. I had to use unusual means to get him to cooperate in bed. Gabriel must have spoken to him about morality. Raphael was a close call the last time, but I had my way. I have to work more on him, and ensure he agrees we're not wrong to be together. I decide my life. Besides, Gabriel is always working and never done. He's helping his brother keep a satisfied wife._

Erica's cheeks burned. Her mouth went dry, and she stared at the wife's name. _Tiffany._ If they had met, Erica would have told her off. But then, Erica worked hard to keep her family together, not break other families apart. Women like Tiffany worked with a whole other set of rules. Her mother always spoke about the golden rule of 'do onto others what you would have them do onto you' in life, and Erica could never understand how any woman would be so heartless. Her toes curled while she almost choked on the fact that someone would intentionally hurt Gabriel.

Poor Gabriel. Secrets had driven him into seclusion. She wasn't wrong to defend him. One man for one woman was what she believed, and Gabriel would be enough for her. A laugh escaped her lips. Scared out of her wits, Erica's solace came from that man's warmth.

She stared at the diary in her hands. If she read more now, the sour taste in her mouth would grow.

So she shoved the diary in between her mattress and box spring. She had more questions, but couldn't read any more.

Her skin crawled. She stared in the mirror. Then she closed her eyes and relaxed. Gabriel's hands on her back replayed in her mind, and her skin tingled. Where did he spend his days out of the apartment? His hands were callused and hard. Hard labor? What did he do all day? She pressed her ear to the wall. The sound of that machine buzzed.

A thud echoed louder, but Erica shook her head. That must be the sound of the house.

Huh, that connection made sense. He worked with his hands, and the chateau needed repairs. Gabriel had his project. If she spent her days alone, she'd need one too.

With a shrug, she stood. If the Marines and war hadn't done a number on the guy, his wife who cheated on him had. As she tilted her head, she rolled her shoulders.

The secret room roared back into her thoughts. The answers might lie in the library. She smiled for the first time all day. She had a goal. If she freed him from his past, perhaps they would have a future. The snow had to melt eventually.

No more regrets. The man gave everything physically. And at least he didn't pine for that dead wife. No man she ever met dreamed of a so-called perfect love that wasn't returned. He'd been a prize, so Erica just had to show him that she was not the same as his vain first choice. Trust mattered.

Family always came first. The second she could leave, she'd run back to her mother's side. Hopefully, she'd still be alive, and, who knew, perhaps she'd introduce Gabriel.

A lump formed in her throat. Erica did not let her stupid fears get the better of her. A giggle escaped her mouth.

Gabriel needed her right now.

And for once she'd not date a man who depended on her for everything he had in life. That would be a welcome change. The man took care of himself and would obviously keep a secret to the grave.

She covered her mouth to stop her smile. Then she found her shoes. What did Gabriel want in life that he spent all hours of the day working on it? A hum returned to her every move as she brushed her hair. She respected hard work. No personal achievement in life came without struggle, except for those people she read about. Erica respected only those with brains and the power to put thoughts into action.

Gabriel's forthrightness when it came to sex might be a mini version of what he was like at work. If so, she'd like him even more.

The diary entry flashed in her mind. It sounded like Tiffany manipulated whoever Raphael was too. Then Erica thought about her sister's hug the day she'd left years ago, but Erica's fingers ached to hold her younger sister again too. Family was family. And his brother and he needed to be brought back together. Tiffany was dead.

In the meantime, Erica had a mystery to solve. Was this house haunted? Erica refused to believe that. Supernatural stuff wasn't normal. But something happened in the walls. More important were the secret chambers, and this room where Tiffany had betrayed Gabriel.

No bang greeted her ears, but the buzz of machines echoed in the far distance.

She mustn't overdramatize the house noises.

She reached for the doorknob, twisted it, and opened the door, but she hesitated for a moment. She squared her shoulders and closed the door behind her. Tiffany didn't deserve Gabriel.

A huge shadow in the shape of a giant grew on the wall. The shadow followed her everywhere. Erica stared at every wall, and within the second the shadow grew beside her. Footsteps echoed lightly, but it might be her own. Erica held her breath until she made it to the library.

Nothing moved here. Erica inspected the walls. Tiffany had marked the wall somewhere. No colored spots were obvious wherever she gazed. Erica exhaled, then walked toward a heavy oak bookcase. If she were devious, then she'd hide the secret location. Was there nail polish on any walls behind bookcases in the library?

Erica ran her hand through her hair. From a glance, nothing obvious stuck out, but there were a lot of books and bookshelves.

Her shoulder burned still, but the pain had dulled.

She stared at a copy of _Jane Eyre_. She could read that one too.

Gabriel was a reader. His wife would have known that. If her secret room was here, Tiffany would have seen any affair here as an extra twist of the proverbial knife to his heart. Did Gabriel know his wife cheated on him with his brother? That was something that shouldn't keep a hold on his heart. Not that it should matter, except she knew how hard it had been when her sister disappeared. Part of her own small family had gone, and Erica had wished to find Kimberly.

Gabriel should find his brother and live in the real world with his family. Unless this Raphael was evil like Tiffany, but Erica's heart refused to accept that.

Gabriel needed to speak up, and she had this mystery to solve until he came back.

All in all, because she was snowed in, it didn't mean she had to stay bored. She'd find the secrets that lay in the walls.

# Chapter 11

In the kitchen, Erica's nose twitched. She sniffed and stopped at the oven. The light was on, and something was cooking. She glanced around, but she didn't see Gabriel. Curious, she opened the oven to peek inside. She inhaled, closed her eyes, and recognized the aroma. Chicken Piccata. Her mouth watered as she took the pan out.

She stirred the sauce and then tasted it. Not bad. No one had tried to cook for her in years, not even her mother. Erica licked the spoon. Gabriel cooked pretty well. She pressed her lips together to taste the flavors of every morsel. Then she decided it needed more cream, and a hint of ginger would make the flavor more delish. Most people were afraid of the calories, but if good food fell off the fork for tenderness, the price was always worth the risk.

And exercise cured a lot. She stayed fit.

The wind howled outside the window again. In Miami, the only time wind scared her was in a bad hurricane, and this wasn't anything near that caliber. She added the spice to the sauce and stirred.

Her skin had goose bumps and a chill ran down her back. She shook off the sense someone stared at her, and finished mixing the cream into the dish. Then she adjusted the timer and placed it back in the oven. Finished, she stared at the wall for a second and swore she saw a shadow. "Who is here?"

No answer. Wolves didn't speak English. The shadow of a person's face then grew softer, like it floated in the air. Erica rolled her shoulder to feel the soreness.

She shook her head. Today she'd search the house. Finished with dinner, she headed back to the library and stared at the outer door to the lobby.

Nail polish left a tiny line. First, she cleaned up the books she'd left near the couch and piled up everything. Her arms still had goose bumps. Outside, the wolves would be hungry. Erica swallowed, and her muscles relaxed. The gray clouds outside would eventually dissipate. The bright light of day would help her see more.

Work cured her of fears. At least her mess was gone, though she didn't glimpse any nail polish. This wall seemed the only one with a built-in bookcase. The others were all old-fashioned wood furniture.

She sighed. The bookcases would be heavy to move. She fixed the books back on their shelves. Her body became hot from the work. She rubbed the back of her head and headed out into the drafty lobby. A few minutes in the bitter cold would defrost her internal oven.

The lobby was cold, and could hold secrets too. The wind rushed through the room, and a chill greeted her. She blinked. The dust in here would be a nightmare to clean. A few days ago this room had been her salvation. The elegant woman with her clear blue eyes scowled in her picture, and the expression matched her diary. Erica twisted to stare at anything else. A shadow slipped past her vision. Her gaze followed the movement, but nothing was there. She chewed on her lip. She'd never believed in ghosts. So why did she still flinch?

She looked toward the stairwell. There were more than two doors on the second floor, from what she could recollect and she'd ventured to the second door during her first look around. Her phone was useless now, but perhaps she could see some sign of a cell tower of sorts. If she saw human ingenuity outside the desolation, Erica told herself she'd make it through this winter.

Curious, she pressed her lips together and zipped up her sweatshirt. She'd be fast. Gabriel wouldn't come to dinner for another hour, at least. This time, in her dry sneakers, she took to the stairs and climbed up the creaky steps.

Every step whispered she shouldn't, but that was Erica's imagination. The hall had little light except the huge window at the end. To get to the window, Erica needed to see. She pushed the nearest door open. Inside that room, she propped a chair out from a desk to hold it open. Light filtered into the hall. She tried again. One out of three doors weren't locked, and opened. She kept the same procedure to add more light all the way till the end of the hall. If she could see, then she wouldn't be scared. At last, she dragged the last chair in place and smiled to herself.

Next time, if she came back up, she'd be fine. Light usually solved issues.

At the last door, she stepped around the chair. She carefully slipped past it to the hall. She needed to go to look out the upper-floor window before night fell.

As she peered down the mountain, she couldn't even imagine where her rental car was or how far she had climbed the other day. Everything on the ground was white, and a gray sky with dark clouds dropped another dusting of snow.

_Boom. Boom. Boom._

She covered her head with her hands and twisted around fast to watch all the doors slam in the hallway. She screeched. The doors made a huge banging noise and left her dark and deserted.

She released her hands and hugged her sides. Panic never helped. She inhaled and took one more glance at the gray sky of the coming storm. Then she kept her head and wits about her and headed back downstairs.

Something inside her screamed _run_. She swallowed and rushed down the black hallway, her heels squeaking on the wood. Erica stopped. She stared at her sneakers. That clack of heels wasn't her. She scratched her head and stared at the wall again. Was someone there? She decided to push against the wall, but it was solid and steady. Her shoulder throbbed, and Erica decided it was just a wall. Finally, she made it back to the stairs that led to the lobby. Where was Gabriel? The sun still gave off enough light to show her the way down. At the bottom step, she crossed her arms to hug herself.

The place was frigid.

Again, she heard nothing, and no shadows played in the corners of her eyes. Even though she thought she was calm, her footsteps pounded the ground. She kept her mind on the word _safe_. Then she flung open the library door and, with a quick breath of air, slammed the door behind her. The apartment held such warmth from the crackle of the fireplace. Her skin grew goose bumps.

In a daze, she stared at the fire, and her heartbeat normalized from the fast thump. She needed to find Gabriel.

She heard Gabriel clear his throat behind her. He walked toward her.

He was here. She stared up and met his dark, sexy gaze.

He motioned with his hands and said, "There you are, Erica. Dinner is ready."

Where had he been today? No. Gabriel wouldn't hide in the walls or clack in heels. His footsteps calmed her. She shook off the thought and licked her lips. She'd been foolish before. Slowly, she raised her eyes and offered him a small, slow smile. "I'm impressed. Are you eating with me?"

He winked at her. "Unless you want me to leave."

"No." She ran over to him to tug on his arm. She inhaled his spice, and she couldn't help the smile that quickly formed on her lips. "Stay. I'm happy. You're my only company, and my savior. The sky is a mess out there."

"Three storms in a row is highly unusual." He nodded and then ran his hands down her arms. "You're freezing again."

She clenched him in a tight hug, and he hugged her back. Good. She needed him right now. His hard body warmed her up. "I was exploring upstairs."

"Next time, take a jacket." He rubbed her back. "And be careful. It's not safe in most of this place."

"I can't stay still with nowhere to go."

He stared at her. "If you wish to explore, take a flashlight from the laundry room."

Oh. At least he hadn't told her to stay cooped up in her room. She nodded into his chest and let out the tension she'd been holding. "Or I could go with you and help with whatever you're doing."

He shook his head. "If I had my way, you'd stay in the apartment where it's safe and not explore anything."

She held her head higher. "I'd be safe with you."

He froze. "No, you'd distract me, and where I am all day, that would end in disaster."

She sighed. "I wish you'd show me where you are all day in case I need you."

He nodded.

She held her tongue. She had won that argument. The silence clung in the air. He sighed and told her, "Remember to bundle up in more than a sweatshirt. We can't have you getting sick. I'm not a good nursemaid."

"Yes, you are."

He let go to step back, but she wouldn't let him. She picked up his hard hands and kissed his knuckle. Then, with a heavy sigh, she stepped away. "We all have our talents. I enjoyed you keeping me warm. Your hands are callused from manual labor."

He walked into the kitchen behind her, not saying a word. She let the silence hang in the air.

She stared at him. He found plates and sat beside her, and then gazed at the ground. She refused to talk until he did. He fixed the silverware, then broke the quiet. "I'm remodeling the entire chateau. Over the summer I updated the roof, and last year handled the outside. This year I'm going inch by inch through this house, laying new floors, fixing the walls, and whatever else is needed. My tools and you sound like a dangerous combination."

The buzz within the walls was him, but that didn't account for the creepy noises. She reached over and took her plate, then corrected her silverware he set in the wrong order. He stared at her changes, then moved his spoon. She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. "The lobby and guestrooms were deserted and untouched."

She gulped, then tilted her head. "Are you going to fix all the creaks in the stairs?"

"Yes." His shoulders relaxed. "I'm working on the back rooms first. Back when this was a hotel, the staff complained the most about sounds and ghosts. The lifeblood of any good hotel is efficiency, and this place needs a lot of work."

She choked on her breath for that second. "Ghosts?"

He shook his head. "There is no such thing. There has to be something that echoes that frightened people."

Of course. "That's good. The doors all slammed shut upstairs."

"There must be a draft up there." He shrugged. "I've not touched a guest room."

Old houses made noises. The draft sounded logical. She smiled encouragingly and nodded. "So you plan on reopening?"

"I don't know. I don't really care, but it's something to do." He shrugged, then stared off into the distance. "I moved back here to work, alone. My doctor recommended working with my hands to push past everything else. I'm not good at keeping company anymore."

Again, she raised her eyebrows at him and smirked. He then gazed at her. "I would bet money you were never good at keeping company. You possess an 'I do what I want' personality."

A smile cracked his serious face, and his entire face brightened. "I'm from Connecticut, the land of the suburbanites. My parents raised us to be upper-class snobs, though I did rebel."

"Like Mr. Darcy, I imagine."

He tilted his head. "I never read _Pride and Prejudice_. It's a girly book."

Her eyes widened, and she smiled. "But you know about it?"

"My mother and sister loved that book." He shrugged. "I haven't seen them in a long time"

"You have a sister?"

"She's a handful of trouble, last time I saw her."

"Mine too. Kimberly, my sister, disappeared on us."

"That had to have been hard."

"My parents taught me family was important." She leaned closer to him. "I never rebelled, but I'd bet you enjoyed yourself."

His smile faltered, and his expression became somber and sad. He reached out and rubbed her arms. "Don't be sad. We'll get you back to your mother."

He saw that? She gulped for a second. When was the last time anyone asked her anything personal? "She's all I have. My father took off when I was little. I hardly remember him. But Mom . . ." She sighed, then shrugged. "She's in the hospital with cancer. My sister disappeared, much like my father did. The day she turned eighteen. So it's been Mom and me for years. She's who I want to call. I drove up here to ensure I had the money to pay for her treatment."

Gabriel massaged her arm. "Erica, I'm sorry. For you, I wish I had a phone."

"You didn't know I'd show up at your door." She stared back at him. His dark eyes made her want to curl up in his embrace and let herself go. "When I cook a family a good meal, I'm giving people a little of the love that I always hoped to find in my own life."

"I'll let you cook all the meals from now on, then." He winked, though his hand fell on her lap to squeeze hers. "I tried to cook for you, but I think you fixed this one too."

"Okay, you caught me." She smiled again, and her body was warm. "Dinner was good. It's been a long time since anyone's taken care of me."

"Your mom will be okay. Hold on to hope. It gets you through a lot." Abruptly, he threw his napkin on the table and averted his gaze. "I have to go finish work. Would you like me to wake you later?"

She pushed her plate back and stood up as well. "You didn't eat anything."

"I can't right now." He swallowed and shook his head. "Maybe later. Do you want me to say good night if it's not too late?"

"Well, I've always had a wake-up-to-sex fantasy." She covered her mouth. Had that just come out of her mouth? "Not that that is what you meant, at all."

With a shake of his head, he laughed. "No, but I'll keep the thought in mind."

She nodded at him and tilted her head. Then she laughed. "See that you do. I do like that I don't seem to have a filter with you."

He stared at her for one moment while he squeezed her arm. "I'm not used to honest women. You make me unsure how to act in front of you."

"Honesty is important." She smiled. "It's okay to talk to those you trust. It goes hand in hand with trust."

"I'm not open." He stepped back and left without another word.

No kidding. As she clutched her stomach, she smiled. A small victory. It had taken her a few days, but the man had opened up a little. If she was stuck here, at a minimum of a month, with him, then it couldn't just be sex. Gabriel deserved more. She deserved more.

Her lips tingled from the last kiss days ago, and she wrapped her arms around herself. If he comforted her as he continued to, then she'd be in danger of falling in love with him.

A smile grew on her face, and Erica refused to care. No one saw her. She could dream.

Then a shadow danced on the wall again. She froze and suddenly stared toward it. She looked toward the kitchen. Work kept her head straight. She went over and washed the dishes in the sink, though left Gabriel a plate on the table to eat later.

A crack sounded in the air.

With her hands in the water, she froze.

She could sense a cold, hateful stare boring into her back.

She turned her head to the side and glanced around. She couldn't figure out why it seemed someone watched her. The house was empty except for the two of them, right? Was it an animal? Erica swallowed, but stood straight. Gabriel had left, and the energy in the room was much colder now.

Whatever this was, it wasn't the sweetheart of a man she was stuck with. Erica sucked in her breath. She shouldn't be afraid of shadows.

"Go away," Erica shouted, though she knew she wasn't talking to anyone. Her neck tingled.

Gabriel wasn't the culprit. The man warmed her. His every glance at her turned her body temperature higher and higher.

Her thoughts of him now helped, and her throat grew less constricted. Good. The coldness left, and she could move her hands without goose bumps. She ran her hands down her shirt and jeans. Then she straightened out her clothes and errant thoughts.

A whoosh of something rushed past her.

Her ears rang, and she plopped the last dish in the strainer with more force than necessary.

A squish reverberated in the air.

What? She flinched.

Then she blinked.

The sink faucet was on, and the water flowed. Was that water she heard? She turned the water off and held her breath and tried to be quiet. What happened? Her hands went clammy, though she clenched her hands in case she had to fight.

No noise followed.

It must have been the sink.

She unclenched her hands and swallowed hard. Nothing stirred. Finally, she cleaned and dried the plate and placed it back in the cabinet.

Adrenaline spiked through her body, and she wasn't the least bit tired now. She ran to her room to get a sweater. She hadn't investigated the library yet, and that had been this morning's plan. She'd go now.

Hopefully, Gabriel would return to her soon. A hug from him would help alleviate the illusionary noises in her head.

# Chapter 12

Erica bundled on her sweater and checked that her socks were folded around her ankles just as she had as a girl with long socks. The routine didn't calm the adrenaline in her veins. The goose bumps stayed on her arms and legs, as the heavy sound of the storm pounded at her the already buried window. She sighed. How many storms were there going to be this winter? She crossed her arms, but nothing stopped the chill in the air.

Gabriel mentioned the outside walls were secure and new, so she'd trust him. No windows were cracked, and the living quarters still had power despite the wall of snow outside. The fire in the library was warm and the best place to curl up in this house. He must know what he was doing to always keep that fireplace going.

To stop her anxiety, she needed to move. So she closed her door behind her and headed back to the library. Once inside, she stopped to stare at the fireplace. The embers were warm and inviting, which was sexy in its way. If they did lose power, Gabriel would have to stop working and wrap his arms around her to keep her warm. Her face crackled with a hearty laugh. Her daydreams were so vivid here.

A man who took care of things would be nice to keep around. She hadn't had that since her dad left, if she even had that then.

Her father had left the greatest family a man might ever ask for.

Her mother deserved the best care in the world, and Erica had to find that for her. She'd, somehow, find her sister, Kimberly too. For too long, Erica walked around, angry that Kimberly had left. But now she realized how stupid that had made her. Their mother would be alone, and the chip on Erica's shoulder for her sister leaving now felt stupid.

Tears threatened to fall down her face, so Erica forced herself to shrug. She could make it right.

Perhaps she'd even score a sexy boyfriend here.

The chill in the air rattled a window, and her heart soared. They'd live. Everything in the room was solid. She glanced around at every bookcase, full of heavy books near the walls.

Was there nail polish?

If she lifted any shelf, she'd be exhausted and possibly hurt herself.

Her initial inspection of the walls hadn't revealed any nail polish, but then, Gabriel's wife had written in that diary that she'd moved a shelf. Erica stared hard at the wood bookshelves that were taller than her. Those cases must be heavy, and Erica didn't possess upper-body strength. From the creepy portrait, she guessed Tiffany had been dainty. Erica tapped her neck. Had Gabriel rearranged the library after she died and missed the marker? Did he not know? Erica sighed. She had no other explanation. She gulped and stared at a shelf. She'd lever herself on the one near the other door first and use her legs and backside.

She shifted her jaw and decided on her first shelf. The lobby near the outside door meant, logically, that a closet or other door would be nearer the larger room. If she had to guess where a secret room might be, it would be logical between the lobby and here.

Sweat formed on her back. Erica shifted and used her back muscles. She braced her feet on the wall, but the shelf hardly moved. One would think she didn't have years at the gym under her belt. Sweat glistened on her entire body and her back muscles stretched. Finally, the bookshelf scraped forward. She ignored the throb in her shoulder, and with all her might, she continued.

Her legs were wobbly, but she stood back up and checked. The wall revealed nothing but darkness. She exhaled and inhaled again. Her exertion didn't move the shelf far enough to see much.

There had to be an easier way.

She rubbed her neck. Then she tilted her head to the side and decided to remove a few books. A laugh almost escaped her lips. The wife must have had the brother knee-deep in the affair to move the shelf. Erica wrinkled her nose. And who had sex on bookshelves?

Erica needed to banish that thought immediately.

If she vilified Tiffany, she'd miss Gabriel's emotions. There must have been something good about the woman. Erica needed to read more tonight, and she'd keep an open mind.

Erica frowned as her mind went blank. Then she shrugged. The books made everything heavy, and perhaps Gabriel had added to his book collection in the year. She ran her hand through her hair and decided to remove a stack of books from the shelf to make it lighter.

With the books piled on the floor, she tried again. This time, as she pushed with her back muscles, she moved the shelf with less muscle contractions. Good. When it was far enough, she stopped. With a wipe of her brow, she brushed her clothes, and knelt to examine the wall.

Nothing. No marks anywhere.

Her nose wrinkled. She supposed it was possible that this wasn't the place, but the diary read like everything had happened in the library. Perhaps she miscalculated.

After she returned the books to the shelves, she tapped on the walls. The echoes sounded sturdy and heavy, with no weak spots, but then, she'd expected that. A secret wasn't easy to find, or else it wouldn't be much of a secret.

Her brow furrowed. She rubbed her chin and decided where to go next. Gabriel mentioned he'd work late tonight. She'd investigate a little more. For all she knew he read the diary and knew about the affairs, but since he didn't talk she wasn't sure. If she discovered anything, she'd show him and perhaps then he'd talk to her.

Corners would be the most logical, in her deduction. She headed to the next corner and knelt to examine the wall behind the bookshelf.

She peered into the blackness, but didn't find much. Most nail polishes, even colorful ones, didn't shine in the dark. And the dainty little miss in the portrait didn't strike Erica as the glow-in-the-dark type.

No, Tiffany had the frilly mean-girl stare.

Erica bit her lip and decided to move books again. Gabriel had been reading the day she had barged into the house half-frozen. His broad shoulders straightened the second she came in, and he'd transformed into her dark angel. To cool off her thoughts, she collected bundles of books for the floor. Then she'd attempt to move the shelf.

This time, the routine went fast.

First, she tried the shelf on her left, and then repeated the same procedure but in a tighter space.

With her back muscles, she pushed the shelf far enough back. Nothing. She let out a deep breath and knelt, then stared harder. Again, she discovered nothing.

Perhaps this wasn't the place Gabriel and his wife had lived at that time? The diary wouldn't have survived a move, though.

Erica sucked on her bottom lip and shuffled to fix the room fast. Today she'd be done with the basic search.

She let out a heavy sigh, then gazed at the next shelf. With her jaw clenched, she unloaded the books and stepped against the wall to push the shelf.

A noise clattered in the other room and stopped her short.

"Erica, are you up?"

She clenched her fists at her sides. Wasn't he working? She didn't want him to catch her. She hadn't found anything. Cold sweat grew on her neck, and she almost didn't stare at the door, like that would stop him.

Her heartbeat was unsteady but fast. She needed to clean up, and fast. First, she scrambled to push back the shelf and right everything. Then she glanced down. She almost missed the spot of red polish on the wall.

Her stomach became upset instantly. The heaviness came from her conscience. This was the place with the secret room. His wife had had an affair. She closed her eyes and wished she'd been wrong, but now was not the time. If she told him, then he'd know she read the diary and ransacked his house. In a flash, she threw everything back. She used her back and moved the shelf. Then she threw the books on the shelf. The screech of the door alerted her Gabriel was here. Just in time, she landed on her knees at the bookshelf.

He stepped inside. At the open door, he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Looking for a book." Her voice cracked at the lie. The truth stayed on her tongue, but wouldn't be said. She needed to see the secret room herself before she told him anything. She bit her lip and hoped her face wasn't bright red. "Any recommendations?"

He walked to her, and her eyes and face were on level with his massive cock underneath his jeans. With her hands, she covered her mouth. The blush she might have had before flushed down her body again.

He squeezed her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Her body trembled. And she knocked over a few books. She stared down and fixed the mess. She quietly told him, "You won't believe me when I tell you that before you, I never fantasized about men."

He picked up a few books she had dropped and re-shelved them with her. "You're beautiful, Erica. I'm sure you never had to go far to find a man."

"Hot men don't hang out in the cancer ward." Her eyes met his intense stare, and she licked her lips. "My celibacy lasted for two years. I found work more important to help my mom. Now . . . since being here . . . with you . . . I've dreamed about you. You taste better than the richest chocolate, and I liked what happened between us the other day."

Gabriel leaned down to help her stand. She gazed at his strong, muscular frame. Then she stood beside him.

Silence clung in the air. Her face heated. What if he didn't want her? She gulped and waited.

He tilted his head and gazed into her eyes. Then he stepped closer and ended the silence. "What's your fantasy now? We're both awake, and you can't fake sleeping. You'd make too much noise."

"True." She tilted her head and laughed. "Two things. First, I am curious about you and would like an hour tomorrow to talk."

She swallowed. The truth lay between them, though she stood silent next to him. She fidgeted with her hands and waited for him to say something.

He didn't say a word. Finally, she stepped back. And he stepped into a shadow.

No. This wasn't the end. She took a step to follow him. He stopped the second he understood she wouldn't stop. His shoulders dropped. "Talking. I don't do that well anymore."

Instead of an answer, she pressed her hand on his and offered a tentative smile. His gaze met hers, then she whispered, "I won't press for anything that's too difficult, but I do need company, not just you occasionally checking on me."

He squeezed her hand. "Okay. I'll get everything done before dinner tomorrow."

A smile formed on her lips. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and he smiled at her. Her entire body hummed in excitement.

"When your smile glows at me like that, Snowflake, it's inviting," he whispered in her ear, and pulled her closer into his body. "I'm so thankful I left the door open."

"So am I." She followed him. He took a seat, then she settled onto his lap. She liked that nickname, and how it came out of his mouth.

"Are you okay?" His eyebrows went up.

She nodded. "What did you call me?"

He smiled. "Snowflake. Hope you don't mind."

"Why?"

"You're an impossibly hard-to-find woman out there. You're beautiful, yet still a sweetheart."

The word sent a thump in her chest. She shook her head and kissed his cheek. Then she rested with him, and he fixed her hair. Comfortably, they settled on the couch to watch the fire. The wind howled outside, but it made the fire brighter somehow. With her head on his chest, she could hear his heartbeat, and she had the sensation of being full. "I've only known pretty men who can't do much. You're making me blush thinking how I settled for so little, always taking care of things. I wish I knew you sooner."

"You jitter all the time." He laughed as he ran his hand down her back. "Half the time, I think I scare you."

"It's not you. It's the house. And I don't scare easy, though I've never been locked inside with no way out. Here, it's like there is a ghost inside the walls, which sounds silly to say out loud." She snuggled closer and shifted to give him better access to her leg. "You might not believe it, but I run seven restaurants and two bakeries, and intended to go nationwide. You knocked my ego down a notch with your opinion of my cooking."

"All to care for your mom. Erica, you're impressive." His laugh echoed out of his chest. "You're much better than me in the kitchen, and a good woman. I liked getting under your skin."

She closed her eyes. "I like being here with you."

He kissed her forehead. "And you're tired, Snowflake. I'll let you get your sleep."

"I look tired?" Her body hummed for him now, but her leg muscles had a slight spasm.

He rested his head on hers. "You're pale and clammy. I can't have you getting sick on me."

Her back muscles quivered from her activity tonight. With no argument, she let out a soft sigh and hugged him. "You are my angel. Don't change."

"Angel?" He helped her stand. Then she glanced to the floor to give him space. He kept his voice low. "Having a woman say that is humbling. I'll not let you down. I'll help you with whatever I can. Now let's get you to sleep."

Slowly they left the cocoon of closeness, and she tugged on his arm. "Stay with me tonight."

He rubbed his chin. "I don't sleep much, ever."

She shook her head. "Then stay until I fall asleep."

He kissed her forehead. "I can do that, Snowflake."

Good. She'd not let him go. Every time they spent together, she saw more details about Gabriel. His brown eyes had red-ember streaks that mixed with gold, and his gaze was smoldering hot. The rest of his muscular frame made him a picture-perfect movie hero and angel, and she'd not let him disappear on her.

# Chapter 13

Erica's limbs shook her awake. Shadows seem to play on the dark walls. She sat up in bed, alone. Gabriel had left again. Her breath hitched in her throat. With her hands clenched, she stared around her dark room.

No one was here.

But every cell on her skin stayed alert to wait for an attack. She massaged her neck.

Nothing happened.

Eventually she lay back down and tried to sleep. But her body stayed up, and she twisted in her bed. More shadows seemed to dance on the wall. The wind swept past the windows and rattled the glass. Her gaze landed on the frosted white window. Another storm howled outside. Winters never ended here, and she missed the hot sun of the Florida beach.

Shadows didn't dance on the walls, and her eyes needed to be checked. To calm down, her thoughts turned to Gabriel and his quiet honesty. Those wide shoulders of his were made to wrap around her and hold her, all night, every night, as he had earlier. Slowly her body relaxed and her mind pictured his dark, smoldering eyes. The memories comforted her.

In bed, he'd set her on fire. Tonight, though, was different. He wasn't here, and her clammy hands never warmed. She swallowed, closed her eyes tight, and tugged the blankets up higher.

With a huff, she thought of Gabriel again. His muscular arms and backside had his jeans molded to his well-formed body. He worked so hard that his body was a machine.

A giggle escaped her lips. Tonight, she'd won a major battle. He'd been so sweet. It was more than that. He had held her tight and complimented her. A lightness grew in her chest. He'd even called her a nickname. Excitement raced in her pulse, and on the high she dared not open her eyes.

A crack on the wood echoed through the night air, and she opened her eyes. Was that just an old house settling in? A clink reverberated and sounded like high heels. She sighed.

Her pulse calmed and she rationalized. She couldn't push Gabriel too far, too fast. Patience must be a virtue. Her mother had told her she'd learn that one day. And now she was stuck here and had to learn. It was not like she had a choice. If she did, though, then Gabriel's huge leg muscles would be entwined with hers under some twisted sheets.

Since her body quivered in excitement now, she wiggled on her bed to find rest. Her thoughts were the opposite of restful. Then she bit her bottom lip. She remembered the diary.

Tiffany would be a mood killer, and hopefully, would make her go back to sleep. Normally she opted out of dark horror stories, but Tiffany had had an affair. It wasn't that she had gone crazy from a long bout of isolation on a mountain, and Gabriel had been scarred from this woman. Erica needed to know how anyone could ever betray her angel.

She reached out and found the book in its hiding spot. She smiled to herself and settled in. Her pillows made a restful spot for her back. Then she flipped open the book.

_My husband doesn't love me. He never did. I know it. When we first dated, I thought he'd help me forget my less handsome fiancé, and how that all ended. Maybe I should have married Alan. He had money, and he'd not speak so cruelly to me. Gabriel wants a divorce, but I can't let that happen._

_Besides, if not for Gabriel, then I'd have not met Raphael. The only bright spot in my life right now is Raphael. Gabriel Murphy is the son of the devil himself. He doesn't think I should stuff my bra, and he yells at me to stop buying shoes. Who cares about the price! They are so beautiful, and that color underneath is a signature design. All women should own Jimmy Choos. But the worst part about marriage is that he's angry I'm not pregnant. I can't help if he thought I was the day he married me. I would have fixed the mess if I knew he'd drag me up here to this mountain. He'll be sorry. I'll have my revenge. He won't know what hit him. I always win. Ask Alan or my parents the price they paid for standing in my way!_

Who was Alan? And what had Tiffany done to her parents? And why would Gabriel ask for a divorce in one paragraph and then Tiffany said he yelled about no children in the next? Had Gabriel married her because he thought she was pregnant? Gabriel was honorable. Erica rolled her head back on the pillow to stretch. It was obvious that Gabriel had married a vain woman. This much was crystal clear, and no, most women did not own fancy designer shoes. Gabriel came alive at simple kindness, and now it made more sense. She rolled her eyes at the pages Tiffany had left behind.

_No one believes me. I told my sister and his brother that Gabriel hit me, hard. And that it wasn't a one-time accident. My sister told me to stop lying. I don't know what to do. One day Samantha will get what's coming to her._

Some words were scratched out. Was Samantha her sister? Erica brought the book closer to her face and squinted to try and read in the darkness. The words slowly came together.

_But this lie was the only option I had at the time._

Anger coursed through her. Tiffany had lied about abuse. She had lied about Gabriel. No wonder Gabriel had issues. Erica needed him to open up, but he had lived through an unimaginable betrayal of trust. Erica rolled her shoulders to calm down, and finished reading the page.

_I can't leave him, as I'd get no money, but no one listens. If I end up dead, maybe then they'll believe what I said. What should I do? I married him, but I've never expected he'd turn out just like my parents. Everyone always thinks they can beat me. I have to find a way to be with Raphael and get away from Gabriel._

Erica's eyes widened, and she reread the passage twice. A wolf's howl in the air made her jerk and sit up. Her shoulder was almost healed from the wolves now. She was safe inside these walls, and she stared at the diary. This Tiffany woman sounded crazy in her own diary. And was Gabriel's own brother as duplicitous as his wife? Blood, at least to Erica, should be thick enough to never hurt others.

If she had Internet access, she'd look up what happened to Alan, her parents, Tiffany, and Raphael. Everyone had history that was accessible online, and Erica's fingers ached to type in their names into a search engine.

Her stomach hardened and her skin crawled.

Was that a faint scream?

Erica swallowed and sat up. She blinked and listened hard. Nothing stirred. Tonight, her sleep came with crazy thoughts that kept her up.

She settled back down in her bed and closed her eyes. She couldn't believe Gabriel had had this type of woman for a wife. Righteousness coursed through her. She'd fight off any ghost. The man took care of her and made her body come alive. She shook her head and almost convinced herself not to think about Tiffany or her diary.

Erica stared at the window, now covered with snow, and settled down. The stupid wind must have moved a pile of snow. Erica's shoulders tightened. It wasn't the wolves. And she placed the diary under her mattress. She'd go back to sleep now.

Under her blankets, she settled in.

Then another scream rang out.

In that instant, she curled her legs up to her chin and rocked in her bed. She swallowed. A moment later, Erica's mind cleared, and she scolded herself. So much for the confidence she had in the real world. She sat up again and stared all around her. Her ears drummed so loud that it affected her hearing. To stay calm, she asked out loud, "What was that?"

The question scared her, and scream rang out. Erica's head whipped to the window. The scream was far in the distance. In Miami, all she knew were stray cats and dogs. All she knew out in the snow were the wolves. Her shoulder heated at the memory. She collected her thoughts and took a deep breath. She forced herself to get up and check the room.

Another scream, this time louder and deeper.

That one had been different and more masculine. Her mind cleared.

Gabriel.

His voice was distinct.

Erica ran into the hallway and rushed to his bedroom door. She pushed, but it didn't open. She used her hip and pushed again, and she realized his door was locked. She rattled the knob and knocked.

The man had a deep sadness in his screams. At the door, she listened to the pain in his voice. The noise was deep and primal. Then she thought she heard the patter of feet. Erica shook the door handle and the feet scampered away. Was someone else in there? Did he suffer nightmares? With a loud knock, she yelled to wake him. "Gabriel. Get up. Now. Open this door."

His screams subsided, but he didn't come to open the door. She lost her nerve. Nothing here made sense. Her mother needed her, and she scolded herself that she shouldn't hope to comfort Gabriel. Her goals had become so strange in this chateau. In the dark hallway, she crumpled onto the ground. She didn't know what else to do. So she waited. Deep breaths helped, but her heart still raced.

She rested her head against his door.

The darkness was so thick in the night. Her ears drummed and she swore she heard the clank of high heels. Nothing stirred. No monsters came out of the dark.

She sat quiet and no one came toward her. Ghosts were figments of the imagination. And Erica's mind kept picturing what the diary said. What could he do to her if he switched personalities? She swallowed. That thought was uncalled for.

She rubbed her forehead. There was no escape in this place. Nowhere to run. Gabriel must have come here to heal from his wife's treachery, if he even knew. Perhaps this was simply his hideaway. Erica swallowed. She should conserve her mind to getting home to be there for her mother's cancer treatments.

A tear washed down her face.

Erica curled up into the fetal position at the door. Being alone meant no one helped her, and part of her shook because Erica hated this quietness. She never cried. Her eyes misted now, and she told herself she could always find the answers. The world offered solutions to any and all problems. Her sister had run off into the world alone. And Erica stayed home to take care of her mom. Everything had been handled until the car accident. Her cheeks were now moist, but she couldn't cry. She told herself only girls, not confident women, had time to cry.

Gabriel would heal in time. Tiffany sounded crazy, despite her size. Erica needed to get home to ensure her mother healed too. There was too much to do for Erica to sit around and mope.

The collar of Erica's nightgown became tighter. If Gabriel hadn't been here, she'd be dead too, and no one would have found her body until the snow melted in spring.

For the longest time, she sat there unmoving. Her eyes watered. She broke. All she could do was cry.

# Chapter 14

Eventually, Erica yawned, then stood to walk stiffly back to her bedroom. Her legs were cold and weak, and she fought off dizziness. The heat of her shoulder reminded her to rest and heal.

Her cheeks held her dried tears.

Isolation and bleakness hadn't been natural in her life. Normally, she spent her day with a million things to do and never had time to think about her personal demons. She rubbed her arms and opened the door to her room. Every day, she ran at full throttle to keep her mind busy, but what happened in the hallway hadn't been that bad. Except, in this house, she turned so lonely and cold. In Miami, cold ended fast. She'd turn the air conditioner down a little and the problem was solved. But in this house, the draft seeped under the skin.

In her room, she closed the door and plopped back in her bed. Finally, she closed her eyes and tugged the blankets on top of her. The coldness hadn't dissipated yet. And she couldn't sleep. So she ran her hands down her legs to get warm.

Nothing was in this house except her and Gabriel.

Her ears drummed louder. And her throat constricted. Sleep was impossible, and her mind raced back to the diary. What if Gabriel had been violent? Or what if Tiffany had done something so hurtful that he'd never talk about it? She couldn't believe it, but right now, the question took on a life of its own. She tossed in the bed and hoped to find some respite.

She sighed, then sat up in bed. Unable to stop herself, she reached for the diary, though she vowed to read only one more passage. Taking a breath for a second of sanity, she opened the book.

_I confronted my husband while he worked. I could stand no more of his constant abuse. Then he fell on top of me and claimed it was the ladder. I knew better. I clawed at him to free myself, but he pushed me back. His damn hammer and nails were more important to him than me. One day I'll use his tools against him. I'll use his house against him._

_He told me to leave. I threw myself on top of the wood he was drilling a hole in, and he almost hit me with the hammer. Yelling didn't help, and I clawed at him. Again, yelling, I told him he wasn't a good husband or lover, and it made it worse._

_He pushed himself on me, and I screamed and screamed. But then I clawed at his clothes. He threw me off him. He was supposed to love me, not want a divorce. He hates everything about me. What am I supposed to do? My sister said it's good if I'm finally telling her the truth now, and that I should agree to the divorce. She thinks his settlement is fair. She's a disloyal bitch. No one listens, and I'm alone. My parents used to call me names too. It's up to me to stop this. He will not leave me. Otherwise, I'm going to die here, and Gabriel will be the one who killed me._

Erica winced like she'd been slapped, and threw the book clear across the room. What had Tiffany done? Erica swallowed. The man steered so far from her, and she'd never have guessed he suffered from someone like Tiffany. Tiffany was his wife. Erica shook her head. That made this read worse. The poor man down the hall had lived through two hells. He had a liar for a wife. He had endured two wars. The second one, the one with Tiffany, had scarred him far more than combat.

Erica realized facts were the truth. One person's opinion did not make what happened the truth. Tiffany was dead, but that wasn't enough fact. Erica's heartbeat refused to listen. Gabriel could do so much better if he talked as it would help him heal.. They'd have a chance.

Besides, Tiffany sounded insane about her parents too. And what had happened to Alan? Erica ran her hand through her hair. She'd not let Tiffany destroy whatever was happening between her and Gabriel.

Reading those entries in the diary had been a mistake. Erica shook her head and sighed. She would never tell Gabriel she'd even read this trash. She'd not let the insinuations and lies in the past steal her happiness now. Despite her revulsion, she bit her lip.

Did she finish the pack of lies? No more surprises meant nothing came out of the shadows to get her. She rubbed the back of her neck. She'd finish the book later, but tonight she had enough. Gabriel would eventually open up, and whatever someone might say about him in the future, she'd defend him. She hesitated, then picked up the book. At first, her fingers stayed clutched and she couldn't open it. Finally, she opened her palm and the book. She took a deep breath, then scanned the next entry. Nothing about Gabriel were in that entry. She swallowed, and she slid the book back in its hiding spot.

She lay down and tugged the covers over her shoulders. Her pulse continued to race with fear and anger. She'd have to calm down.

The bitter, howling wind sounded like a womanly moan. The sounds played tricks with her mind. That had to be the wolves. She ought to know better. This night never ended.

Finally, Erica fluffed her pillow, shook her head, and reminded herself that she shouldn't have read anymore of the diary. Gabriel had been nothing but nice to her, and his wife was dead. Tiffany's entry in her diary mentioned that she'd die, and it would be Gabriel who killed her.

Erica's throat thickened and she nearly choked. But tall tales never made sense, and Tiffany's story stank.

In the morning, Erica ran a hand over her head, but she refused to open her eyes. Her head pounded. Had she had any sleep? She needed a pain reliever, a sleeping pill, something. Her mind kept playing cruel tricks on her. And the nightmares became unbearable. All this happened because she was alone.

Gabriel had to keep his promise today to seek her out. She'd go crazy if left alone.

At home, her mother's sickness never left Erica a moment for herself. She had to work. Or she had to be at the hospital. Nothing else mattered. And from constant activity, she became numb to life. She helped her mother through the pain. She had never once picked up the phone to call her sister, not that she knew where. She sucked on her bottom lip. She could have hired someone, or tried to find Kimberly, though.

Erica realized how selfish that had been.

Stress ate at her, but she didn't deal with helplessness well. Finally, she opened her eyes and prayed.

A memory floated into her mind a moment later. When she had been a girl, her mother had done yoga to relieve stress. Was there a book in the library on positions?

Erica supposed the idea was good. She'd never let herself calm down. She reached behind her head to massage her neck. Erica had never experienced this roller-coaster of emotions and needed an anchor. Life had demanded much, and she'd always been too busy to notice.

Despite the morning, her sleep came fitfully, and an hour later, she gave up the effort. Cook. Clean. She'd find something to stay active. Erica showered and dressed, and found the apartment deserted.

Gabriel had woken early to work.

Erica rubbed her chin. She decided to figure out where the back rooms might be. Gabriel had mentioned he was upgrading the staff locations, and there had to be an entryway. It was not like he walked through walls.

She blinked. The diary had mentioned secret passageways, which reminded her she needed to go find that secret room. Her stomach rumbled, so she'd eat first.

No. Erica shook off the numbing coldness. The man was an angel, and wouldn't lock her up and leave the front door open. There had to be another door.

Her body calmed down. She pictured his sexy, smoldering, dark eyes. In candlelight, his wide pupils reflected the flames. Who was this man who excited her? The perfect lover she'd be crazy to doubt or a man married to the crazy lady from the diary? Her body ached. She marched to the kitchen. He'd be innocent of his wife's lies, and the diary could be washed away. Her heart stayed heavy. Erica hoped the thoughts of the woman would die already.

She opened the fridge to decide what to do. It was a stupid diary and not Erica's problem. Tiffany's marital affair meant trouble in paradise, and Gabriel didn't open up easy. Erica needed to pry him open to speak. Words took effort for him. Unlike her—she could talk to anyone for hours about nothing at all.

The refrigerator held no appeal. She stopped and picked up a muffin on the table, which, though made the day before, still tasted good and edible. After a few bites, she took a deep breath, then clenched and unclenched her hands. Another one was missing, so Gabriel had eaten one too. Good. She'd make more. Every time she baked, everything else in her life became better.

She went to the cupboard to get ingredients. Her mind cleared as she whisked batter for muffins. Then she kneaded the dough for bread and let go of everything else.

Food gave life and substance, and deserved to be delectable. She lost herself in the mixing.

The moment she finished, her smile grew wide. She'd do something else. Perhaps organize something. She headed out to the library, her every step echoing on the wood floor. She entered the cold lobby. Her body kept calling her back toward the warm apartment, yet her feet kept on their forward path. If Gabriel intended to fix this place, then she'd be useful.

Tonight, she'd talk to Gabriel, with a scrumptious dinner to celebrate.

With a watery smile, she walked behind the stairs to what looked like a filled-in wall that could have been a service entrance. The staff would have to get to the front desk somehow. The wall had strange paint. On a whim, she pushed forward, and the wall gave way easily.

"Hello?" she called out.

The whisper of a slight wind echoed in her ears, and dust blew into her face. She coughed.

As per usual, Gabriel didn't answer, but from the clean, bright floor, he'd been here. The wood was brand-new and buffed. He'd told the truth about what he did all day. The remodeling was so different. The lobby was dank and without life. In here, the cream walls and polished floor showed care. The dust must have been wood chips, which an open window would take out. Plus the floor didn't creak with every step ahead. All in all, this work was superb.

At the next room, her breath caught in her throat. The staff here would have a nicer work area than the people at her own restaurants. Everything was sterling silver and functional.

Then something brushed against her back that sent goose bumps up her entire body. She turned around and stared into the next room in the distance.

Chains. Saws. Axes. Metal slabs she couldn't describe littered the room. She stepped back and flinched.

After she turned around, she blinked. Nothing was behind her. What had brushed against her?

Her throat constricted slightly. The man had a million tools, and the diary entry flashed through her mind. She stared at a red liquid oozing on the floor. The workbench next to the mess was chipped and of various colors. In a flash, she gulped for air. The diary had been full of lies. Yet Erica cringed and ran back to the apartment.

She'd rather forget what she saw. She shook her head. The tools were for work, but her feet pounded into the floor in her mad dash.

Back in the library, she tried to stop her frantic breathing. This made no sense. He couldn't be whom that person in the diary claimed. He was fixing the house, as he said. But the wife had mentioned tools, hardness, and how he had pushed her down. She rubbed her forehead. She'd not believe Tiffany.

Something cold and small touched Erica's back, and the sensation of it brought everything she read to life. She turned around to grab at the air, but no one was there. A dull ache caught in her chest.

A creak reverberated in the air. Erica twirled. She remembered how she told him to take her without permission. Even now her body hummed. She needed him to tell her that this place was safe.

Erica let out a small scream. Then she told herself, "Too much alone time is making me crazy. Get going and go finish that cake and prepare dinner at cake for tonight. No need to act crazy."

Ghosts didn't exist.

There was a rational explanation for everything, and Gabriel was still her wounded angel. She'd figure the rest out. She rubbed her temples. In business, she'd been schooled in fearlessness. So why did Gabriel send her into hyperventilation? And what was with this creepy hotel? Something was off here.

Back in the kitchen, she took flour out of the cabinet, and she chose to forget tonight for a while.

Today, she'd bake cupcakes too.

A few hours later, she was relaxed. No more noises, and her mind hummed with life. She set up the cupcakes in the refrigerator and put a newly baked cake on the table. Everything in life had a purpose, and she'd find hers. There was a reason she'd ended up here, and she'd help Gabriel and herself figure everything out. For now, the food looked delicious, and the room smelled wonderful.

Just because she stayed trapped in his house did not mean she needed to feed her fears. She had choices and refused to go crazy. She'd always been a fighter, despite what she'd been like the past few days.

Now she ached and went to take a nap. In a few hours, she'd be fine and alert. The wind whipped past the windows, and she hadn't blinked. Good.

There was no such thing as ghosts.

# Chapter 15

Erica checked the fresh batter she whipped together on the counter. The yeast had risen slightly.

Gabriel hadn't come back. The man must be hungry.

Tonight, she'd bake the fresh bread. Her nap had worked wonders on her spirit, and her body stayed tension free. She checked the oven, and the meaty lasagna smelled savory. Tonight's meal had the heaviness of carbohydrates that had always fed her soul as a child. The tomato sauce smell went right through her nose and sang to her heart.

The buzzing electrical noise in the wall ended. A smile grew on her face. She had forgotten she heard that sound sometimes.

She gazed at herself in the glass and stared at the white flour on her body. A giggle escaped her mouth, and she shook her head. She needed a fast shower. The clothes she wore had various food-processing marks.

Her eyebrows shot up. A nice outfit would keep her happy and help Gabriel notice her. She sniffed herself, but all that came through her nose was the smell of tomatoes. She ought to dab on vanilla, as she read that men find that smell the most exciting.

She rushed into her room and hopped in the shower. She'd wash the food stains off in thirty seconds. She towel-dried her body, then ran to find a red dress. The label had made absolute sense the moment Erica stared at the beaded material. That many beads were expensive, but then, one-of-a-kind designers had no limits.

Erica held the dress to her body. Her hips might be an issue. She tugged at the material and it hardly stretched. She didn't need to wear this, but the style magazines all spoke highly of this designer. On her own, she'd never bother to go into a store to test. Erica bit her lower lip and wondered if she'd look good in it anyhow. The dress was two sizes too small. In a flash, she made a choice and tried to squeeze into the dress. A fancy dress for dinner was a perk, and she needed a high moment to finish this lazy afternoon.

To wiggle the thing past her hips, she squirmed.

Slowly the material went up. Good. She reached behind her and closed the top button.

The dress clung at her chest, but she managed to get the zipper up.

First, she stared at in the mirror at her legs. The hem stopped halfway up her thighs instead of at her knees, as intended. She stepped closer to the mirror and peered at her body. Her breasts arched. And she gave herself a secret smile. She hadn't worn red in ages. In Maine, she suddenly wore a South Beach outfit, complete with the leg length. She giggled. In Miami, she dressed the prude. Hopefully Gabriel liked her legs. Another laugh escaped her lips, and the dress almost ripped. She'd have to be more careful. Open-toe heels would complete her high-class pretense, so she found silver spikes.

With one more glance in the mirror, she nodded. She looked great. She went back to the kitchen to check on the food.

Yes. She had a hum in her step. Everything was perfect.

The kitchen was still and undisturbed. Gabriel hadn't returned yet.

Outside, the gray skies indicated another storm. With a deep breath, she rushed and set the table. She laid down the last spoon and relaxed. The troubles of last night hadn't mattered.

She returned to the oven and took the lasagna out with a pair of gloves. With perfect timing, she placed it on the table as Gabriel walked inside from the back door.

His blue jeans clung to his muscular body, and his blue T-shirt barely contained his rigid build and half showed his US Marine tattoo. She smiled brightly and leaned over to fix the plates. From the corner of her eyes, she caught him checking her out, and a warmth went up her entire body.

His fiery gaze stared at her. He must like her outfit. She flipped her hair to the side and met his stare head on. Then her mouth fell open. He stared back with a grim face. His frown was colder than the snow. Unsure, she froze. "What's wrong?"

His eyes were dull and lifeless, and his arms were crossed. "Where did you get that dress?"

What happened? She narrowed her eyes. "Where do you think? In the closet."

His voice was etched with anger, and she gulped. He took a step back. "I didn't throw that away?"

Something about the dress bothered him. She tried to understand. "Okay. Bad memories. I'll go take it off."

She passed him to leave, but he held up his hands. A loud sigh escaped his lips. She kept her gaze down. She'd not touch him. But he stood so close, and his woodsy scent became a whiff of reality. He brushed her arm and quietly told her, "Wait. It's not you. I shouldn't be in a bad mood over a dress. You didn't do anything."

"No. I didn't." Her shoulders relaxed. She dropped her guard and brushed against his arm. The last thing she'd ever do was hurt him. She gulped. "I can change if it makes you sad."

He shook his head. "Clothes don't make a man sad, Erica. I was rude."

"Sit. I made us dinner." She nodded, but her heart pounded near him. The heat turned a different temperature.

"You look good." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. The fire inside her grew. She gave him a small smile, and her heart skipped. He led her inside and held a chair out for her. Then he waited. "And this kitchen smells appetizing, like tomatoes."

"And you're forgiven." Her smile grew larger, and she brushed his muscular arm to take her seat. "I hope you like lasagna."

"Sounds good." He pushed in her chair, then took his seat. A sense of belonging overtook her fast, but she pushed the thought back. He picked up a fork and leaned closer to her. "I thought women knowing how to cook was some urban myth of lost generations."

"I had no choice. Cooking calms me." She cleared her throat and stared into his smoldering brown eyes. "I checked out the work you're doing in the back rooms."

His eyes brightened up like she had mentioned fireworks. And the pit in her stomach descended. He pushed for more. "And?"

He sounded hopeful. Her face flushed, and she stared at her shoes. She had overreacted about the tools. She coughed. "The floor shone and didn't creak."

He sat back in his chair. "That's all?"

Okay, she had misjudged. He stared at her like she had stolen Christmas from him. She chewed on her lips. She didn't believe in ghosts. What happened made no sense. As she pursed her lips, she answered, "I didn't get very far. You have a lot of tools."

His eyes widened with understanding and hope. With a nod, he admitted, "It's true. The first room is messy. Once I'm done, I'll take all that stuff out and buff that room. It became easier to leave my stuff there in the winter. What did you think of the kitchen?"

Next time, she'd not get scared off. Her shoulders dropped, and she leaned closer to him. "I didn't see it."

With a genuine smile, his eyes held a shimmer that somehow took them from smoldering to burning hot. He told her, "Oh. You'd like it, I think. I updated all the equipment to make it modern and efficient."

She stopped. "It wasn't before?"

"This place was falling apart."

With an honest smile, she tilted her head. "I'll check it out tomorrow. I can tell you what I'd add in the kitchen."

"Expert opinions are welcome, and you are my favorite chef."

Laughter bubbled out, and she leaned closer to him. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

He winked at her, then leaned closer to whisper, "That's good to hear. My work was off all day, and I've been in a foul mood."

"Why?" Had he seen strange things too?

She caught how he blushed. Then he took her hand in his. Had he meant her? "I don't sleep well, ever. Today dragged, but it's getting better."

He had meant her, hadn't he? She was sometimes dense. She scooted closer to him but kept her gaze on his chin. "I freaked out when I saw your tools. It was stupid of me, but being alone isn't something I'm used to, at all. In Miami, it's never this quiet."

He moved their handholding to his lap, then leaned closer. "Miami? You don't have the accent."

Her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled up at him. "I grew up in Central Florida and then moved farther south. I travel to New York and Boston three times a year."

"Explains you better." He nodded.

Her eyebrows lifted. "How?"

With a wink, he answered, "Miami people don't drive in snow."

She tilted her head and then answered, "True."

He leaned on his arm for a minute. "Why did you even think that a factory in Maine was so important that you came in the middle of winter?"

She let out a breath, happy to answer and talk. "I was heading to an investor's winter ski resort to sign off that I'd open my factory here in Maine. If I avoided the blizzard, I'd have made it. A national company shut down operations a year ago and left the place abandoned. I didn't care where the place was, as long as the equipment and workers could be found at a reasonable price. The price was too good to pass up. Now, though, I've likely lost that deal."

He massaged her palm. "Why?"

Her gaze dropped, and her face heated. She leaned closer and told him her fear: "Because I'm probably assumed dead."

He didn't deny it, but he patted her knee. "Don't think about it. When the snow clears, I'll get you out of here and we'll clear it up. If it's the old cupcake factory, I know the owner. We'll straighten it out."

"You're my angel, still." She smiled. "I hope no one else wants the place."

"No one is going to come up to northern Maine in the middle of winter like you." His eyes wrinkled with laughter. Then he shook his head. "You're the only person who thinks that. He probably lowered the price to entice someone desperate and foolish."

"That would be me, then." She held her breath for a minute before changing the topic. "Sometimes, I think a ghost lives in your house."

"Sometimes, I think so too." He shook his head. "Ghosts aren't real, but the demons in my past never stray from my mind."

Perhaps this wasn't the time for that discussion. No need to bring up pain. She needed him to help mask her fears. With a smile, she reached to the side of her dress to unzip it. She'd let him see more of her for dessert. But it caught on her skin. She flinched. "Help me. Pull this hard."

He stifled the sexy groan of an almost laugh.

She shook her head. "I was trying to be smooth."

His laugh broke free now, but his hands brushed against her back. "Let's see."

"And I was trying to help you seduce me." She turned around and gave him her back. "But I'd like to breathe. I put this on before eating the fattening food, and I'm bigger than your wife."

"You smile more too." He stood behind her back, and his large hands rested on her hips. His hands could almost wrap around her entire waist, and she wasn't tiny. The zipper still tugged her skin, but he held her closer to his warm, muscular body. The headiness took the pain away. Then he whispered, "If I can't get the zipper, I'll get scissors."

"Deal." She nodded. But to stay brave, she closed her eyes while he tugged. His callused hands sent a heat wave through her.

The dress hadn't budged.

This wasn't sexy. She chewed on her lip and tried to pull at the dress. "Maybe I can wiggle it off."

"Let's get you on the bed and get your body to relax." He kissed her ear. "I can find the scissors, though."

"I don't want sharp objects on my skin." She twisted around in his arms and played with his belt loop to force him closer. His erection meant she hadn't screwed up entirely. With a saucy wink, she added, "But that hard blade is more than welcome to try and break me."

His eyebrows rose. "Try?"

"Maybe you're not ready to rip the dress off me."

He reached for her leg, traced her thigh, and brushed against her center. A shiver escaped her body. Suddenly, his other hand reached for the top of the dress.

He held her so close she thought he'd kiss her. But he instead whispered, "You asked for this."

He yanked the top of the dress hard, almost causing her to fall. The rip reverberated in the air. Her chest bounced free from the dress's cage. She took a deep breath. His hand on her hip and his massive chest didn't let her stumble. She sighed her approval.

His grin and the chill on the hardening pebbles on her breasts made her smirk up at him. Gabriel was everything she hoped for in a man, and she teased, "If you do this to all the clothes in the closet, I won't have anything left to wear."

"That's a good idea, Snowflake. I'm all for watching you strut around naked." This time he held her close for a kiss, and she squirmed and tumbled to get him on his back.

"How do you know I don't cook in the nude already?"

He laughed and didn't budge. "Believe me, I'd find out, fast."

He traced his hands down her back and squeezed her ass. She moaned and he picked her up. Her legs curled in his embrace, and he carried her back to her room.

Another giggle escaped her lips, but she let him kiss her shoulder. In his embrace, she slyly maneuvered her bra lower. He kissed the top of her breasts, then told her, "And seeing these not fit in the cups is sexy."

"The wrong bra size can cause headaches." Seriously, what was wrong with her sometimes? She swallowed, then finished, "Though tonight, I hoped you'd like the strapless push-up."

"Wash yours. We have a laundry room, which you seem to avoid for some reason." He reached around her and unhooked her bra. Her chest free meant she could breathe. His coarse hands on her back left a trail of electricity in their wake. "Let's take it off, Snowflake. Can't have you getting ill."

His lips brushed her exposed skin, and he set her body on fire.

"Hold still." He stepped back and untied his work boots.

A chill raced down her spine and went to war with her heart. The man couldn't be what his dead wife claimed in her diary. He couldn't. He was unlike any man she'd ever known. Her body ached for his touch. He kicked his shoes off; then his hands traced up her leg as he stood.

Now he took a hardened areola in his mouth to suck, and her entire body flushed. Thoughts jumbled and she became inarticulate.

With the wall behind her, she wrapped her legs around his body and pulled him closer.

"You're flexible. I like it." His hands on her thigh edged up her body. She needed him, and closed her legs around his torso. "I like everything about you."

"Me too. I like being with you." She swallowed. "I'm happy."

He stared at her for a moment. She thought she'd gone too far, but then he nodded. "Me too."

He carried her to her bed, and his hard hands against her soft skin made her body ache. At the edge of the bed, he set her down, and she sighed into his neck. She was half dressed, and her hands went to his chest to take off his shirt.

He helped her. The moment she pushed past his shoulders, his shirt came off easily. Then she threw it clear across the room.

Her fingers led her back to his belt, and she tugged. Wow. She ached to taste him. He ran his hands on her naked skin and kissed her cheek. "Patience, Snowflake."

Someday she'd learn that lesson. But instead she took his hand and ran it down her legs. He growled with desire, but she refused to let him go. She kept her legs locked around his waist, and he squirmed. Then he leaned lower to kick off his shoes.

She kissed his ear and whispered, "Hurry, angel."

A sigh escaped her. Gabriel stared at her like he'd won a prize, and, somehow, she was his. His smoldering eyes set her skin to well past burning for him. Then he turned his head to kiss her hard. Playfully, she kept her neck away from his lips. He kissed her skin so gently that she ached. Then she smiled and stared up at his succulent, sexy brown eyes. She sucked on her lower lip and dared, "Pants first, angel."

His eyebrows shot up. "Move your thigh, so I can unzip the rest of that dress."

Damn. Caught. With him naked, she could endure anything. She kissed his shoulder and shook her head.

He let out a groan. Good. She massaged his back to distract him. But he twisted and figured out how to pick up her leg to wiggle out of his pants.

At last he stood almost bare. At that instant, his hands went to her hips. He tugged, and she lost the last shreds of her dress. His hands massaged her back, but she twirled out of his arms. Freedom was good.

Now she sat on his lap, and his engorged manhood rose up to greet her.

She leaned in to kiss him, and she let go of all crazy fear. She needed him. Her muscles relaxed. The man's kiss was hard, exciting, and delectable. The frenzy inside her body demanded to have him inside her moistness.

Without patience, she positioned herself better and pushed his cock into her. Shyness was for another day. Today, she kept right on kissing him.

"Damn," he managed to say. No more words. She pushed him backward on the bed.

In full control, she needed to ride him. The heady throes of taking control made her body tremble.

She bucked backward. In a burst, she shattered all her control and lost herself in that moment.

# Chapter 16

Erica slept through the night and woke up the next morning. She stretched her arms and suppressed a giggle. Her body hummed from activity. Multiple times. Yum. She'd wrangled a promise from him last night. She had made him swear that tonight he'd dress for dinner in a suit. Her eyes rolled backward from the memory of their lovemaking. A sigh escaped her lips. She'd demanded he take her hard. She had left him no choice but to do what she wanted.

Tonight, they'd switch roles. He swore he would.

Her heart raced now. Today would be a good day. She stood and walked to the closet.

She ran her hands through her hair, and her entire body stayed well sated.

Finally, she went through her morning routines to clean herself up.

Gabriel had wanted her to see his work. All day with the incomparable man would end all her nightmares.

She anchored her hand on her hip and nodded to herself. She could do more than just cook. She could figure out how to use a hammer.

Outside her window the wind rushed past and it sounded bitterly cold. The windowpanes were frosted through, and for a second she wondered if ice could crack glass.

She sighed and stared at the door. Outside would be the library and that constant fire. She'd beat her fears of ghosts and whispering winds. Useful was what she preferred to be. He intended to clean up the front area this winter. As she straightened her hair into a bun, she concluded she could straighten things out with him too.

With a scarf around her neck and gloves in her pockets, she shuffled out of her room. The dark hallways echoed. She swallowed. Shadows and echoes were common, and this part of the house was fine. She had sat in the hall the other night and nothing happened.

At the kitchen, she placed her gloves and scarf on the table. She ticked her tongue to the bottom of her mouth and decided: a good, hearty chicken soup was fast and easy to prepare.

She shed her jacket and sweater, then went to work. She chopped the celery, which would go bad if not used, and set the pot on the stove. She finished preparing dinner for tonight and set the oven.

First mission accomplished. The soup would take hours to warm.

Now she bundled back on her sweater, jacket, gloves, and scarf, and went into the main lobby.

A blast of cold hit her face harder than a concrete wall. She rubbed her arms, which grew goose bumps despite all the layers. Then she swallowed and took another step. Halfway to the service door, she stopped. Was there a shadow again? Then she clicked her tongue and glanced around the lobby. No. This place was a mess. Spiders would be at home here. She turned around and decided to clean up behind the counter.

She gazed around the front desk, where hotel guests would check in. The ancient computer would likely be trashed. Then she sniffed the dust in the air. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. If she cleaned, she'd be less afraid.

She turned and marched back into the living areas. She found a plastic bag, then returned. Her breathing grew easier, and her heart beat at a regular pace. Work was great. She threw a few loose wires inside. Then she opened a cabinet and picked out a stack of papers and a ledger. She threw them in the trash. Dust gathered in her eyes and she coughed.

Despite the work, she was in a good mood. She picked up a second stack to trash, but she stopped. The word _guests_ caught her gaze. Gabriel? Who had stayed in his lodge, and was anyone related to Tiffany? Curious, she tossed the rest but held onto the guest log.

The drawer was empty of papers and everything. Erica sighed, then stared at the guest book. She scratched her chin and opened up to see what the last date of entry was. Suddenly, a yellowed news clipping fell out.

A picture of Gabriel picture caught her eye. His expression was deep in the photo. His eyes held the echo of sadness. Her skin prickled and she reached to the floor. Gabriel's smile sent heat through her, but she knew it was fake and for the camera. Her fingers brushed the edges of the newspaper. His handsome face without remorse sent a thrill that caused her to smile too. He'd been so carefree. Whatever had happened hadn't crushed his intensity, but his eyes seemed almost haunted.

Then she stared at the words, and her eyes bulged out. _Suspect Questioned in Murder_ stuck out in bold letters. No. This was crazy.

_Gabriel Murphy, eldest son of real estate mogul Jack Murphy, was questioned in the murder of Alicia Hatfield. Her tumble down the stairs of the hotel is considered suspicious. His lawyer, Quinton McDougal, has stated his client is innocent and working with the police to provide a full account of what happened at the Chateau Louis Ermons._

Who was Alicia? Erica continued to read.

_His wife, Tiffany Murphy, had transformed the chateau into a ski chalet for the wealthy. Mrs. Murphy did not appear with her husband and has not been seen publicly in over a year, though there are multiple reports she's on the property._

Murder? Erica's body convulsed. Had Tiffany set him up? Erica squeezed her eyes shut, but the word _murder_ floated in her mind. Her heart beat a little faster, and she swallowed. Seeing the world as it was never interfered with how she thought or reacted. She gulped, and her heart raced. Her feelings were hard to read. This was impossible, and she wished she hadn't read Tiffany's stupid book of lies. Now this. Her body finally stilled. Coldness crept inside her lungs, but at least she calmed down.

She opened her eyes and stared at the newspaper clipping. She rubbed her neck. Gabriel had been questioned for murder. The frayed paper held morsels of truth.

Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. Tiffany had tortured Gabriel. That had to be the answer, but Erica never assumed anything about anyone. She gasped for air and pocketed the newspaper clipping. She glanced at the portrait on the wall of the cold woman with no smile on her lips. "You framed Gabriel?"

A question pounded in her head. Had she welcomed into her bed a man who killed his wife and other people?

No. Her heart screamed not to think those thoughts, but her head screamed to run away. The snow piled high outside the window, and the gray skies were darkening. There was nowhere to run.

And then her shoulder heated at the thought of facing the wolves out there again.

Erica's feet shuffled backward, but she couldn't stop the question. She had to get out of here. Her head spun again, and she shook it. If she wanted, could she get out the door?

Her breath caught in her throat and her hands shook. She walked fast and swung the front door open. The white wolf had nearly killed her. Her body shook.

A huge pile of snow greeted her. She'd die out there. Her hands trembled. She sucked in her lip, then slammed the door shut and gasped for air. The howl of a wolf echoed through the door. Her breath hitched and her head spun. There was no escape.

Her entire body shook uncontrollably. Panic never helped her think logically. To stop, she placed her hands on her heart and tried to stop hyperventilating. Her choices were to be eaten or figure out a murder.

This had to be wrong. She had to be overreacting.

She had to think of something positive.

A shallow whisper of a giggle escaped her lip next. She had finally discovered good sex.

Perhaps that wasn't a good thought. Gabriel took her in, fed her, clothed her, and was becoming the most important person in her life. Near him, she felt safe.

Why believe anything else?

Her breathing stayed raspy, but she dulled her heartbeat to a slower pace. To not let the whirlwind of questions float in her mind, she stared at the stairs. Black spots clouded her vision. Murderers weren't hot, gorgeous men with the ability to make her body melt, right? And this particular man spoke to her heart.

Trust should be natural, and her heart refused to believe the things she'd read. Her heart whispered to be calm.

The room seemed to grow smaller. She'd always been a smart and rational woman, but now she questioned her own mind. Were winters always this bleak? She'd lived her life in the sun and never had to stare at her own shadows. Finally, she put her hands together and dropped to her knees. She decided to pray. "Please. I need help to be rational. Gabriel could not have done this."

A mental image of Gabriel's strong, capable hands loomed in her mind. That wasn't appropriate in a prayer. She stood up, brushed off her pants, and took off into a run.

She stared up the stairs toward the second-floor rooms. The dust flew everywhere in the hallway. She swallowed. The window at the end was too far. This time she headed even farther up the stairs. The floors creaked with every step. Everything grew darker, and she was almost in pitch black, until she circled around and reached the top floor. Light reflected here. Massive windows in what was once a restaurant helped slow her heartbeat. She coughed out the dust in the air.

She inched closer to the windows, and a breathtaking view captured her attention. A sea of evergreens was covered in snow up the side of the mountain. She leaned her forehead against the glass, despite the frigid temperature. The cold helped lower her body heat.

She stared at the powder snow, untouched and clean. This view was what Miami people dreamed of. Snow seemed so beautiful. Her eyes searched lower down the mountain, though the blanket of white mixed with those deep green pines had no signs of human activity. From here, she couldn't even see the wolves, unless they were all pure white.

A sigh escaped her lips. In Miami, she had dreamed of snow sleds and snow angels and snowmen. In all the movies, families had seemed so happy. But she'd never imagined the vastness of mountains. The whiteness stretched as far at her eyes could see, and her chin trembled.

They were alone.

She was trapped, and if she judged the position of the sun correctly, evening approached. The grayness indicated a night storm.

She heard a creak of the floorboards in the distance. She turned to stare around the empty room, full only of tables. This must have been a dining room for guests.

No one was here, but she had goose bumps on her arms again.

She rubbed her arms for warmth. Gabriel would be looking for her.

So much for helping him today.

Her throat itched and she massaged her neck. If she showed him the article, he'd believe she had doubts. In that moment, she made a choice. She'd not tell him what she found. She'd pretend everything was normal. She had no other option. If she told him and he was innocent, he'd withdraw. She'd never forgive anyone who accused _her_ of murder. And if he was guilty . . .

Her throat constricted.

Her hands went clammy and cold. She'd stop that train of thought right now. He couldn't be guilty. She'd find the truth and her assumptions would be vindicated.

Maybe in Tiffany's secret room? Why hadn't she gone there today? If she had been anyone else, she'd have screamed to go there first.

Yes. She had the best plan she could come up with. The dead wife would be easier to blame.

# Chapter 17

Footsteps echoed in the hall. Gabriel? The back of Erica's neck tingled still. Her shoulders tightened, and she backed into a bookshelf in the library. The heaviness of the books bumped her elbows, but she'd have something to throw if the doors opened.

She braced for impact and stared at the door to the lobby.

"Erica?"

Her ear buzzed in one side. Gabriel. Her heart thrummed a little less now, and she turned to gaze at the door to the apartment.

Ghosts were a stupid thing to be frightened of. She swallowed. She'd let him think she'd spent the morning in the library. Her heart whispered he'd understand she was outside, but her head spun. In desperation, she pressed her lips together and stayed silent to take her seat. She flinched at the creak of the door. She rubbed her hands down her body, then stared up with a small smile. He opened the door.

Without a thought, she closed a book and left it on the chair.

"There you are. Reading again?"

The lie wouldn't form on her lips. She glanced at her shoes. She couldn't tell him. She'd never been a good liar. But her muscles relaxed near him. Surely it meant something. She batted her eyelashes and stared up at him. Then she nodded. "I've been waiting for you."

His muscular frame leaned against the door. "I thought you were coming to see me work today?"

"I was."

"What happened?"

"I got afraid in the lobby."

"Why?"

"Wolves. They were outside the door."

"I am sorry, Snowflake. Were you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm even better now."

She lifted up her chin a bit more, and she blushed the moment he met her gaze. No words formed. Why couldn't she tell him? Why was she afraid? Then he winked. "The chicken soup smells satisfying."

Her mind went blank. What could she say? She opened her mouth and stared into his tantalizing eyes. Her heart melted a bit. "I was cleaning up the lobby and tossed a lot of papers into a trash bag. Tomorrow, I'm going to sweep out there and get rid of the dust."

"You don't have to." His smile grew into dimples a bit, and his face was warmer. "You're a guest."

Her skin had sparks of life in it again, which countered how cold she'd been. She sighed. "I want to help you."

"Thank you." He came closer. She stared at his broad shoulders and muscles until he stood in front of her.

Her jaw stayed open, and the electricity in her body sang. She saw the boyish gleam in his eyes as he stared down at her. "What are you thinking?"

He knelt on one muscular knee and his face came closer to her. "That you are beautiful and precious."

She stroked her throat, and her body burned. Her brow furrowed. What? Then his lips met hers, and steam came out of every cell in her body. Gabriel tasted better than anything else she'd ever had. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and she met his kiss with her own.

She sat back a little to focus on anything but how rapturous he was. In protest, he kissed her neck, and her knees went weak. He pressed her into his body. She wanted him. Right now. His muscular chest next to hers sent her heart into pleasurable palpitations. His fingers tugged at her shirt and lifted it up. Her brain became foggy, and he claimed her lips in a kiss again. Her mouth quivered with excitement.

Suddenly, she called out, "Wait."

He stopped instantly. "Erica, did something happen to you?"

"No." She swept her hand across her forehead and blinked a few times. The fire inside her grew hotter near him, and despite everything, her lips tingled for him. Ghosts weren't real and the house made noises. "I want to help you, Gabriel."

He traced her nose with his finger. "You said that earlier, Snowflake."

She nodded, and her lips sent the electric pulse for another kiss that moved up in her brain. "You deserve a second chance at living your life without being stuck in the mountain."

"I don't know what I would be like if you hadn't barged through the door." His hand stayed on her side, though he slid it up to hold hers and squeeze. "You're important to me. Far more than you realize."

She swallowed hard. She couldn't lose him if she lied. But her heart and mind needed to work together. Her gaze lowered. "I don't know. I don't know much about you."

His large hands firmly held hers now. "What do you want to know?"

Should she tell him what she found? She needed answers. She opened her mouth to tell him about the newspaper, but when she gazed into his intense eyes, she became hypnotized. "You were a captain in the Marines. And you live here alone. Do you have a job that pays you?"

"I don't need one. I have enough with the rebuilding of this ski chalet."

She turned her shoulder away, but said nothing.

He stared at her eyes for a moment. Then with a firm smile, he told her, "I've been living off my investments and restoring this place. I have more money than most people, if that's what bothers you."

Her eyes misted a little, but only because her heart opened to him. "I just wanted to know if you had the means to take care of yourself."

He nodded, but the silence clung in the air. She'd screwed up this conversation. "But if you live here alone, what happens if you get sick?"

"My parents will find me in the spring."

"What do they do?" The question fell out before she could do anything else.

He sat next to her on the couch. "Dad was an investor and owns hotels. Mom was a librarian until she married my dad. She was his second wife, though they met long before my brother, sister, or I were born."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Tell me more about them."

His entire body went rigid. "I don't want to talk about my brother."

His wife. Raphael and the betrayal had to be painful, but Erica needed to know. So she stepped closer, leaned on his shoulder, and whispered, "Your sister, then. Who is she?"

His grim frown opened up, and his jaw went slack when he told her, "Baby sister, Michaela. Mom wanted four children to name after the four archangels. She had three."

She nodded. "That's a cool concept."

He continued. "Michaela's a terrible writer, but she hopes to write the next big song."

Her hands brushed against his. "We should all be talented at something."

"Talent does not run in our genes." Then he took her hand and rested it in his lap.

She turned her body a bit more. "Everyone has something they are good at."

His nose turned a little. "Our mom is on the spiritual bent where it's almost a religion, but she's not as bad these days. I can't imagine any brother with the name Uriel."

"It wouldn't be that horrible of a name. I kind of like it." Her mind relaxed.

"You'd kiss a guy with the name Uriel?" He froze after the words came out of his mouth.

She swallowed, then swung her leg over his to sit on his lap. "I don't know anymore. I have a thing for the name of the messenger angel, and I don't go for sharing. Now shut up and kiss me, Gabriel."

He followed instructions, and her lips ached for more. With a sigh, he stopped a moment later. "Wait, are you the boss again?"

Her eyebrows rose. "I'm slightly bossy all the time."

A smirk grew on his face. "I'm okay with that."

With a wide grin, she told him, "Good, because I want to stay in your arms."

Her stomach stayed hard, but flashes of heat coursed through her. Another flutter of kisses sent her body into overdrive. This time, he ended the kiss, and he stripped her of her shirt and sweater. Her head rolled back, and she bounced in his lap and brushed against his manhood.

He groaned at how she moved. "Unbutton my belt, Snowflake. I like your hands all over me."

A watery smile appeared on her lips. Tomorrow, she'd tell the truth. Tonight, she needed him. She did as he commanded, and was turned on. But something held her back. Why hadn't she told him what she found? The truth would set her free. But every second he brushed her skin with his callused hands, her body burned up, and she loved his every touch.

He unhooked her bra and gave her the biggest smile. "This is your only fitting one. Guess you'll earn it back."

"Earn?"

"Get it back later. I need you."

"Good."

The boyish smile on his face melted her heart. Her hair on her arm rose. Her smile grew. And her skin electrified every second his hands traced her bare back.

She lost her ability to think, and could only react. Her body convulsed the moment he kissed her ear; then she whispered, "Take off your pants."

"What will you do?"

"Ride you. Sit back on the couch."

She shivered. She'd do anything to stay. Gabriel backed away. Her feet rocked for one second. She was unsure what to do.

He gave a wild wink, then dropped his pants.

She giggled. Her stallion was ready to go.

Her mind cleared. She closed her eyes. A bubble of excitement grew inside her, and she pushed her ill-fitting jeans off her body and sat on his erection. Her pace stayed slow, but she lowered herself further down. "Is this good for you?"

"Teasing, Snowflake." His hand traced her thigh and squeezed her backside at the same moment he met her gaze. "I thought tonight, we'd played chess."

"Later. I like this first."

"Erica, you are insatiable."

"True."

Her lips trembled. A primal urge grew inside her. He rubbed her backside, which sent a longing for his sumptuous body to take her.

"I've thought of your breasts all day."

Hunger for him grew in her womanhood, and her fingers ached with need to touch. "I hope you enjoy."

Then she bounced up and down on his shaft. He groaned.

He shook his head. "Erica, you're amazing."

"I like how you say my name."

With passion that built inside her, she let him lavish his attention on her hardened nipples. Every few seconds, she bounced. Desire coursed through her and a warm sweetness grew.

First he took one bud to suckle, then the other. He took his time, licking, kissing, and her body ached with a need for release.

She soon pressed closer and begged him to take her.

He flipped her around suddenly; her butt stuck out and her chest pressed into the couch. The liquid desire for him grew. She needed him, and his hands checked her apex. Good. Then he pressed his finger inside her and kissed her shoulder blade. "You're excited, Snowflake. I have no idea how I lived this long without you."

His tenderness was her undoing. Her body shook, and her adrenaline spiked. He slightly squeezed her ass. She squirmed, and he played with her clit. A small burst of rapture coursed through her. Had she ever been so alive? With heavy breath, she opened her mouth and told him, "I'm yours, Gabriel."

"And I am yours." A second finger plunged inside her and made the fever in her body electrify.

An unstoppable moan escaped her lips. She panted. "Please, Gabriel. I need you."

His fingers picked up the pace, and her release grew, about to explode. He pushed her on the couch and told her, "Erica, you are my weakness."

A moan escaped her lips and she closed her eyes. Everything inside her shuddered. Her words were true: "Gabriel, you are the only one I ever want."

_Love_ was too strong a word. She'd prove him innocent.

After he squeezed her ass, he pushed into her mound and the deepness of him inside her set her off balance. Aching with desire, she ruptured and lost all control.

With her eyes rolling backward, he pushed deeper again. His manhood rammed into her. The moment the wave seemed to end, another frenzy took over her and pushed her off the edge again. Her last thought was that Gabriel was definitely an angel to cherish, because no other man sent her into oblivion like this.

# Chapter 18

Euphoria deserved a reward. With her shoulders back, Erica lazily stretched her arms wide. A vague memory of last night surfaced, and she visualized the moment he'd called her his weakness. Gabriel gave her what she had always wanted but never dared ask for. Then she had met him. Sated, she'd slept beside him most of the night.

Erica settled on her pillow and a deep sigh escaped her lips.

Her nakedness made her flush and bury herself in the blankets. Last night's multiple orgasms from Gabriel lay at such odds with what she had found. Her well-suckled breasts still ached for him. Marks of his ample attention remained.

He set out to please her and make her every wish come true. Her heartbeat was too sure now. She'd find out the truth here.

She'd hand him the article and the diary. Then she'd call it rubbish and toss everything in the trash.

Her heart ached to trust Gabriel and go slow with him. Her lips twitched, but her head reminded her that the man could be a murderer multiple times over. Her heart screamed no. Fulfillment didn't come from doubt, though, and she had no answers, except that her instinct was to trust him.

The warmth she had in her soul for him should be cherished. Perhaps she had missed a few things when she'd skimmed the last part of the diary the other night. Her heartbeat had thrummed in her ears, and all she had heard that night was the thump in her head. Now adrenaline rushed through her body, and she had the energy to conquer the world.

In the stillness of the night, she decided to read more of the diary. One clue that Tiffany's diary was a lie would be enough. Erica tapped her finger on her cheek. Gabriel was in his room. The diary might have answers to how bad he was hurt. Or even better, the murder could be explained away. Gabriel had been too good to her to believe anything else.

She picked up the small book and flipped open to the next page.

_Today was different. Raphael told me that we couldn't continue our affair. I threw myself at his feet, but he walked away from me. He blames himself for betraying his brother and family. Without him, I am utterly alone. I can't let him go. My parents are dead. Alan is dead. And my sister and Gabriel both hate me. Gabriel promised to love, honor, and cherish me. He was a liar. I started the affair with Raphael to stab him in the back, but everything changed. I fell in love. I have to get Raphael back. His love is all I need. I need to find the right concoction to make him stay. If I told Gab about Raphael, he'd have grounds for a divorce. If I lose Raphael, then Gabriel will pay the ultimate price. I can't let Raphael go, and I can't let Gabriel get away with ruining my life. Not yet. Not ever. I deserve better. There has to be a way to not lose the only thing I love._

_I cannot lose him, or it would be like losing myself. Without Raphael I am nothing, no one. He is all that matters. All I care about. If his family cannot accept that I will have to make them . . ._

With her eyes in a dramatic roll, Erica relaxed. His wife had been an idiot, and slightly off. Concoction? Was she drugging him? The only one Tiffany loved was herself. Selfishness was on every page. Erica swallowed. She had been right about his wife. Besides, if _she_ were married to Gabriel, she'd never cheat. The man set her on fire in a way no other ever had, and Tiffany had used him.

Erica's neck tickled again, like someone stared at her. She stretched her hands above her head.

A loud sigh helped dissipate the strange sensation on her body.

As Erica flipped the page, her shoulders eased on the pillow behind her, though she noticed the entries were almost done. The other night hadn't revealed much, so today's more fine-tuned reading should end all doubts. The woman didn't write much, though Erica's eyes stared straight at the name she sought: _Alicia_. Who was the woman who had died? She hoped this would clear away her doubts.

_That stupid woman doesn't deserve this attention. Alicia spent the night flirting with Gabriel. She got what she deserved. My husband's life will never be happy. He doesn't get to replace me. Not when he stole away my chance at happiness. Raphael is gone now, but he didn't tell Gabriel anything. At least he had no idea Alicia flirted at all. The man spends most of his time outside with the hired help, and at night he screams. I keep laughing to myself. War is supposed to make a man stronger, but my husband became a coward. I don't care how many medals he's won. If he were courageous, he'd not have nightmares. And if he believes war was too much for him, he'll never withstand what I'll do._

Erica cracked her knuckles, and the sound reverberated in the room. Then she narrowed her gaze to read the rest.

_When Gabriel discovers my affair, he'll be completely destroyed. His mistake with Alicia will be his undoing. It's my only chance of escape now, if I can find Raphael. His brother will be enough for me, in a way Gabriel and Alan could never be. Raphael will never know the lengths I will go for him. First things first: If I don't destroy Gabriel, he'll surely kill me. I have no choice. It's why I hide the evidence in our secret room. Alicia's fall was useful. Gabriel won't know I set him up. He's never home._

Erica's fingers froze on the words _Alicia was useful_. She scratched her head and sat up. She tapped the entry with her index finger. What did that mean? The entry was riddled with confusion, and Erica's grin grew less confident. She ticked her tongue to the side of her mouth. What had Tiffany done to Gabriel? If she had killed Alicia, and not Gabriel, everything made sense. She nodded at the book as thunder boomed in the distance.

Erica frowned and stared at the door. Had she not checked it immediately because she was afraid? Tiffany was dead. If there was something in that secret room, then Erica needed to see. She had to go find the truth. Her mother had always said the truth was better than a lie. Gabriel deserved to know the truth too, if he'd been set up.

The chilly air was a shock. Her body had overheated from exertion earlier. But she threw a nightgown over her body and found a sweater. She'd sleep better if her brain trusted the same way her heart and body did. She found her slippers, then slipped out of her room. Her hands were frozen, and she rubbed them on her arms to warm.

The fire in the library kept her gaze for a moment. Then she stared at her task, and her body soaked in the warmth. She marched toward the bookshelf, shed her sweater on the sofa, and moved books to a pile on the ground first. Her hands had tingles, and, again, there was a tickle on the back of her neck. She refused to entertain doubts now.

She pushed on the wall that had the mark of the nail polish, and at first nothing moved. There had to be a secret door here that held everything. With her hand on her hip, she decided to knock and listen for any hollow sounds on the wall. Doors had different sounds than walls.

The entire thing echoed in the same fashion. She sucked in her lower lip. What was she missing?

Her shoulder ached, but she ignored it.

Behind the next shelf, she ran her hand on the wall and clicked something. A giggle escaped her lips, and her heart beat a bit faster. She pushed the wall again, and it opened easily.

A satisfied smile grew. With her hand anchored to her hip, she found it, and her pulse raced. She took a step to go inside.

"No."

She winced. Had he seen her? No. She should have told him. Gabriel's scream echoed in her heart.

With a fast inhale of breath, she slammed the door closed and spun around fast.

No one stood behind her, and she stopped flinching. As she let out her breath, she froze. She heard a second scream, and recognized the guttural cry of terror.

Had something happened? She ran to Gabriel's room and tried his door again. This time, he hadn't locked it. She pushed in and stared at him. Somehow, he sat up in his bed with his legs curled up to his chest, but he wasn't awake. He had a huge safe next to his bed. She reached out and brushed his hair behind his head. To comfort him, she leaned closer to sit next to him and massaged his scalp. "Gabriel, are you okay?"

At first he didn't answer, but his strong body shook. He was in a sleep state.

Uncertain what to do, she rubbed his shoulder to get him to relax. He stopped his shaking a moment later, and his body slowly released tension. His gaze sharpened and stared at her. He must have awoken, because he nodded, and she understood.

"I don't sleep well." He kept his hands on his head. "Memories haunt me."

She massaged both of his shoulders, then kissed his neck. "It's okay. Memories of war? Or your wife?"

"Both." His eyes met hers for a moment before he dropped his gaze.

With an understanding heart, she offered him a side hug. He swallowed. Then she heard the sigh from his throat.

He shook his head. "Erica, I've seen more than I should have. The darkness means good girls like you shouldn't be anywhere near me."

"That again?"

"I'm in a dark place."

"And hospitals are filled with optimistic people? I spend most of my time alone." She brushed his arm, then tilted her head as she continued to stroke him. To protect her from whatever haunted him wasn't a good idea. "What was your dream? Talking about things helps."

He twisted his legs to sit up. "You don't want to hear it."

To gain his trust, she hugged his shoulder and answered, "If it's haunting you, I'm here to listen."

He stared out the window and at first said nothing. Her pulse was on alert. Trust went both ways, and she ought to tell him. Then he took a deep breath and broke the silence. "When I was captured in war with my men, I had to watch a young kid die. They killed him because I had to keep our mission secret."

Her heart constricted at the picture he painted. She scooted closer to have her legs brush his and hugged him again. "Gabriel, it's not your fault."

His pupils were big, and his stare so empty that her heart hurt for him. His muscles tensed as he shook his head. "I put us there."

What a horrible burden he held. She offered him a small smile, though she couldn't let him go. "You didn't shoot him. They were after you, and it wasn't your fault."

"Too many ghosts haunt me to deserve you." He kissed her hand. He seemed so melancholy. "Let me put you back to bed."

"I was already awake."

He said nothing at first.

The man shouldn't be alone. She picked up the blanket and tucked her feet under the covers. He didn't move, and she pressed on the pillow. "I'll stay here with you."

"I won't sleep anymore. I'm up now. Best to get up and go to work." Without giving her a moment to react, he stood fast. She sat up, but he rushed like something chased him. "You should get more sleep, though, Snowflake. It's still early, and you're white as a ghost."

"I told you already, I can't sleep without you."

She took his offered hand, unsure what to do. He wasn't a man she could talk into anything. She slipped her feet back into her slippers, then leaned closer to him. "The best way to get over pain is to talk it out. Whenever you're ready, I'm here."

For a minute, he didn't move; then he hugged her. The fire in her belly grew, and so did the weight of what she should say. She opened her mouth to fess up, but then he told her, "You're the first to ask in a long time, Snowflake. Give me time. Tomorrow, I'll find you during the day and show you the kitchen. We'll talk more then, but first I need to work stuff out in my head."

She blinked. What should she say? He had opened up to her. And promised more. He had to think things through.

Trust went both ways, and the weight of that inside her stomach kept her locked in place. With heavy footsteps, she followed behind in the hall.

The moment they stepped into her room, she froze. The diary was on the bed. This was not the time, and she didn't need him to disappear on her, not yet. In an ungraceful move, she pushed herself in front of him. She walked backward and picked up his arms to her waist. "Okay, I'll wait on you, but can you stay with me?"

"I thought you couldn't sleep."

"I can. Next to you."

His eyes spoke before he did, and she knew he'd agree. He squeezed her waist slightly and stepped forward. "Are you sure? We're both moving fast, and you've been skittish."

It wasn't her who was skittish. "I'm positive." She sat on the bed, dropped the diary down behind it, and then smiled up at him. "Lie down. Don't be shy. I've already seen you naked and approve of the entire package."

"You win, Erica." A chuckle came out of his mouth next. She sighed and settled down. He kicked off his sneakers, then sat beside her. He fixed the blankets around them as he lay down. "Go to sleep, Snowflake."

"Close your eyes, angel." She held his hand beside her and listened to her steady heartbeat. Tonight, they enjoyed each other's company. His strong, callused hands engulfed her, and the safety net of being near him soon enveloped her. Slowly, she closed her eyes. "I won't hurt you."

He made no more sound, except a deep breathing. He had to be asleep.

The diary had to have an explanation. Tiffany, not Gabriel, was the murderer. Erica would find the evidence in the secret room and offer it to him. But right now, her body relaxed next to him. He needed to know she believed in him. Her muscles warmed into a safe cocoon next to him and her eyes closed.

Her last thought, as she drifted off to sleep, was that tomorrow she'd find proof he was innocent.

Everything would then be perfect.

# Chapter 19

For the first time since she'd arrived, Erica woke up smiling. Today, she wasn't scared of any ghosts or diary entries. She sniffed the air, and the smell of the deep woods was still in her pillow. Gabriel. Her mouth watered. Instead of bouncing up, she flipped over to the other side of her bed. She could still cuddle in the warm sheets and smell him in his pillow. He'd recently left. Despite his arguments, Gabriel had slept more. A grin grew on her face. Good. If she helped him, her entire soul lifted and peace entered her heart.

She swallowed, sat up, crossed her arms, and yawned.

She'd prove today that his wife had set him up with that accusation, and any doubt Erica possessed would stop its pounding in her head. She needed to show him the room. Her heart trusted him. How had she even wondered such awful things about him?

At the window, the coldness hit her fast and chills ran up her body. She stared at the white wall of snow outside, and her throat constricted. Panic inside her grew. A tingle started on the back of her neck again, like someone else was here. The darkness crept from the walls.

She blinked. No. A larger shadow grew on the wall. Erica gasped, but then the darkness evaporated. She shook her head. She was lightheaded, and that transformed the fear and terror into something else. She'd been irrational. Now she needed to find the proof.

Gabriel was falsely accused, and she'd be here for him. If he sought answers, she'd give him whatever she found, all tied together with a bow around it. Her heart lifted at that thought. Perfect. She rushed to the closet and found clothes. In the meantime, she'd get moving and go see if there was any way to help him.

The shadows near the wall seemed to follow her, and her breathing was shallow.

No. She shook her head. Erica dressed and then stretched her arms and legs. She tried to relax, and not think, for two minutes. Her mother would tell her that her fears were just hogwash.

Erica laughed at the thought, stood on her toes for a minute, reached up to stretch, and then went about her morning routine. She turned around and stared at the wall one more time. No shadows at all. She almost walked out of the room, but then she saw his note. _Will come back this afternoon early to show you the kitchen. I hope you like it. Gabriel._

Aw. The man was polite and kind. Her mother would like him. She took off on her mission. She briskly walked through the small apartment. At the kitchen, she shook her head. She'd make something later.

In a march, she reached the library door, closed the door behind her, and headed right to the secret door. Gabriel was innocent, and today she'd vanquish her fears and his ghosts. Her shoulders were ready for the burden. She moved the books and the shelf as fast as she could. Then she reached to click the spring and open the door. The second she heard that pop in the air, she stopped. A chill went down her spine, like someone was watching her. The tingles on her neck reappeared.

She rubbed her neck. Shadows didn't go room to room, especially with no windows or sun. Her eyes darted around the room once, but she shook off her reaction.

An eerie feeling pushed inside her, and the pit of her stomach grew heavy.

She sneezed and waved her hand. The dust of the place meant no one had been there in a long time. Erica covered her face. The musky smell in the air went right up her nose. She gagged but continued. Inside the room, her gaze immediately settled on a twin-size daybed. Erica's eyes watered. His wife had cheated on Gabriel in the light pink–painted room with a flowered bedspread. Erica's nose turned up, and a gasp escaped her lips. The old-fashioned cheapness somehow made sense here.

What would link this room to what happened to Alicia? Erica turned around.

She checked out everything, then sat in the chair at the vanity and stared at herself in the dirty mirror. She could see the daybed behind her. With a blink, she could imagine the small woman from the portrait who chose to have an affair and stare at herself during sex. The image was burned in the walls. Erica surmised that this was the place. Picture frames lined the table, and she brushed dust off the nearest one. The blonde woman in that red dress stared back at her. Erica swallowed. No wonder Gabriel had frowned.

There had to be something to prove him innocent. She tapped on the counter, then opened the first drawer. Dust blew up her nose and she tried not to sneeze. Her eyes watered. Then she stared inside. Instead of answers, she found another news article printed out from the Internet. The link must be the local paper. Evidence of a later report, in which Tiffany was implicated? With a smile, Erica read on.

_With the unsolved murder of Alicia Hatfield still hot, a second victim has been found at the Chateau Louis Ermons. The handyman, Reilly O'Shea, was found dead this morning. The police suspect poisoning, though no official statement has been released. Gabriel Murphy went to the police of his own volition the day the body was found. His lawyer, Quinton McDougal, states his client is innocent of all charges and is fully cooperating with the police investigation. Police Sergeant Walters told his fellow officers that they already have a suspect in mind but must gather all evidence before making the arrest. This reporter wonders how many more hours of freedom Gabriel Murphy will have._

Her nose wrinkled. Who had underlined that? And who had written this slander? Heat burned her cheeks. Erica glanced up at the name of the reporter, Ruth Smith, and red-hot anger coursed through her body before her hands shook. So much for fair and impartial news. Erica put the paper down and shook her head. Then she ticked her tongue on the roof of her mouth and tried to rationalize what she knew. The wife, Tiffany, was dead, and in her diary, she claimed Gabriel would kill her. Then she basically admitted to killing Alicia. Now the handyman had died, and again Gabriel had been crucified.

Her poor, sweet Gabriel.

The story had holes, but Erica had her theory. Tiffany had done this. She had some sort of plan. Erica ran her hand through her hair. Today, she'd ask Gabriel how Alicia and O'Shea had died, and risk rocking the boat of trust. She'd bring him here, to this secret room. He had answers, or clues. Had he been here remodeling or stripping the place apart for evidence of what happened to him?

Erica stopped. Was that what he was doing? She swallowed. It made sense. Talking together would clear this up, and she'd find what she needed.

She rubbed her neck. Gabriel had been through so much. Two murders in this place. Everyone blamed him. The second report found in the wife's cheating hideaway. Erica froze. A guest and a janitor. Gabriel was questioned, but that didn't make him guilty.

A memory burned bright in her mind. His kiss sent shock waves of electricity coursing through her. The lingering doubt went away. It couldn't be possible. She'd get to the bottom of this.

"Erica, where are you?"

Gabriel's voice. No. Not here. A lump lodged in her throat. She jumped to her feet and ran out of the room. The dust in the air gathered in her nose. Inside the warm library with the fire, she slammed the door closed and sneezed. A moment later, he opened the library door. "I'm making a habit of finding you here."

"It's a big, warm space." She glanced around.

"Are you moving the books?"

"Yeah, don't ask. Come and kiss me instead."

She didn't blink until he came over and kissed her on the lips. The spark stayed, despite the tingles in her nose. She closed her eyes and smelled the homey, woody scent that was all Gabriel. Then she opened her eyes and gazed into his sexy brown ones. She'd solve this, then when the snow melted, she'd . . .

She wasn't thinking about that right now.

"You're distant." He stepped backward.

"Distracted. It's nothing." She moved forward and wrapped her arms around his waist to stop him from backing off.

His face turned into a small smile. "What?"

"I'm worried about my mom." What held her back?

"I'll do what I can, Erica. Pray for time. And I'll pay the hospital bills."

"You don't have to."

"I have the money, and you love her."

"I do." She swallowed. "Thank you."

Generous too. She sighed. He smelled of soap and sweat but mostly of freedom. Doubts had no place. She kissed his cheek, then told him, "Your kiss makes me happy."

"Yours too." He kept his hands around her and held her. She swayed a little. He kissed her cheek in return, and told her, "I don't know what I'm going to do with you, Snowflake. But come. Let's get a sweater for you. I want your expert opinion on the hotel kitchen. You can tell me if I should add anything."

She smiled at him and took his hand. The callused hands enveloped hers, and a gentle heat coursed through her now. "You're planning on reopening?"

"With the front of the house, I've hired a professional company. This winter, I'm fixing up the back, and mostly finishing the prework. When they come, everything will be cleaned and all they need to do is lay the new floors, restore the ceiling, and paint the walls. I had an electrician here last summer who painted and restored the grounds and redid the roof, the plumbing, and windows."

"You've been busy."

He squeezed her hand. "I was waiting for you."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Then I'd have been here sooner."

Perhaps he wasn't searching for clues into what happened. Perhaps he knew. She swallowed and intended to ask.

Then he opened a door—the laundry room. She covered her mouth and almost laughed. She'd never checked out that room. "I am used to dropping my laundry off at the cleaners. It never occurred to me to check for a door here."

"Or get a flashlight."

To hold in her giggle, she kept her hand in his, and he admitted to her, "When the house is in order, I'll happily stop doing laundry myself."

She leaned over and squeezed his hip. She teased, "So you intend to let people in and help you?"

His hand rubbed the back of her hand. "Despite how you met me, Snowflake, the only other time I took care of myself was in the Marines. I'm thinking I'll head home when I'm done."

She fell back while he led her down the hall. "Where's that? Connecticut with your parents?"

"Boston." He gave her half a smile. "I'd like to see you again."

Wow. She smiled. "Count on it, Gabriel."

She had recently opened a restaurant there. Again, she kept her mouth shut, and he let her hand go.

To give way, he stepped behind her. "So, what do you think?"

"This is some kitchen." She twirled around to stare at all the gleaming counters, the freezer door, the huge oven, the fresh metal pans. Then she stared back at him, eyes wide open. He almost reminded her of a little boy who waited for approval. Her eyebrows shot up. "Amazing."

"Need a professional opinion, Ms. Chef." He kept his distance, and she roamed on the beige Venetian-tiled floor and touched every counter. Then she nodded.

"Anything you'd add?"

With a shake of her head, she laughed. "This is state-of-the-art. I'd recommend power."

His mouth fell open. "Funny."

_Ask him about the murders._ She jerked her shoulder forward and reprimanded herself. As she pressed her lips together, she stared at the oven. The pit of her stomach grew heavy, but she tried to ignore it. She should show him now. She gulped. "What happened here that you shut down power in the main house?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

She swallowed and turned to stare into his thoughtful eyes. She rubbed the back of her neck. "Talking about whatever happened will help you."

"Not always." He backed up in the room. "And if I scare you, I can't melt the snow."

No. She'd not let him run away. She had to ask and tell him what she'd found. She stepped forward and matched his pace. "I'm scared if I don't know the truth."

He ran his hand through his hair, and his skin paled. Then he shook his head. "I can't talk about this."

Her body shook. Her voice cracked. "Please, Gabriel."

"I need to—" He shook his head violently, then broke contact.

"Don't. I have to talk to you." With her hand over her mouth, she stopped talking, and her eyes followed him. He paced the room and never looked at her. He shook his head like he was worried. Then, with no answers, he stormed out of the room.

She put her clenched fist in her mouth and bit on a finger. Then she covered her mouth and tried to stop her feet from rocking back and forth. If he answered that question, she'd believe him. All she needed was a rational explanation.

# Chapter 20

Late in the evening, Erica stood in the cold kitchen, and her hope slowly faded that he'd come back. She tried to relax, but Gabriel hadn't returned.

Outside, the night sky became darker, and the stars were the only bright things she could see from where the window was. Answers on how she'd tell weren't forthcoming, though her shoulders were heavy. Her head spun. He had said he'd be back, but the house was so still. Eventually, she gave up and dropped her hands to her sides. She needed the missing puzzle pieces to figure this out herself. Gabriel had nothing to fear from her. If she stood around on the cold floor, she'd let the cold seep through her skin.

She hugged herself and realized she had a room to search. Her fists clenched, then she turned toward the library. She swallowed and told herself she couldn't be wrong about his innocence. A cold sweat broke out on her brow. She'd be in a whole lot of trouble otherwise.

What was that thought?

She headed back to the library and the secret room. Her thoughts were ridiculous. Gabriel was kind and sweet and perfect. Tiffany had hidden that news clipping, and there had to be more clues in her hideaway. If she had a secret place, she'd keep all her hopes and dreams in it.

What happened to Tiffany, Alicia Hatfield, and Reilly O'Shea? All three people were dead, and Gabriel's name had been mentioned multiple times as the main suspect. The weight on Erica's shoulders was the opposite of the whispers in her heart.

Yet he was here and not in jail. Murderers didn't live at the scene of the crime. They went to jail. Unless, of course, there wasn't enough evidence. No, she'd not go there.

The man needed to answer a few questions, but he took a while to open up. Erica had never had much patience.

Everything with him was almost perfect now. So what was wrong with her?

She managed to silence herself. Then she took her first few steps into the warm room. She'd go mad if she waited around for the rational explanation that had to exist here. Her mind racing, she walked back to the library.

What if he wasn't what she hoped he was?

Doubts had no place in her life.

She pushed past the fireplace and its warmth of the library, headed right for the wall, and pushed it open. A sneeze escaped her nose. After a deep breath, she reminded herself to cover her face the next time she came in here. The dust swirled around. Then she coughed. She covered her face with her hands, though her eyes still watered. The shadow on the walls stayed, but everything else settled.

A chill went down her back, and the tingle on the back of her neck returned. She rubbed her neck. Was someone here? This time the sense was stronger. It was like cold, metallic daggers boring into her neck. Someone hated her.

No one was here, though. She squared her shoulders and headed farther in and toward the vanity, which had a second drawer.

She opened it up. She found a few books and papers, and then her heart froze. Something didn't add up here. The drawer was too shallow on the inside.

With a knock at the wood on the ground, she heard the hollowness.

Secrets. She picked the books and papers up and brushed her fingers against a false bottom. This could be the answer. With her fingernail, she traced the wood to find the groove, then picked up the switch.

No! Her body twitched, and her breath caught in her throat. A gun.

Erica's hands shook. Why had Tiffany had a gun?

Erica's hands turned white. Her eyes wouldn't blink. She closed her eyes and ignored the weapon. To keep warm, she hugged herself. How did Gabriel figure into this?

Perhaps Tiffany had set him up. Erica's theory might be right, and then Gabriel was innocent.

The need for answers overwhelmed her, and she opened her eyes. She stared hard at the papers and book on the desk. She picked up the papers, rummaged through them, and found yet another news article that came off the same Internet site.

_Raphael Murphy, brother of Gabriel Murphy, was shot this morning at the Chateau Louis Ermons. The police have taken Gabriel into custody. Alicia Hatfield and Reilly O'Shea's murders have not been linked yet, but share the same location and the same suspect. This reporter wonders when the arrest for the alleged murderer will take place. Tiffany Murphy has appeared publicly for the first time in over a year. She's lost a lot of weight recently, but she's vowed to close down the chateau. Raphael's murder is the first in this series with a gun. Alicia fell down a flight of stairs, and O'Shea was poisoned. The murderer is growing bolder with every kill. Gabriel Murphy's arrest will put this town at peace, though his lawyer, Quinton McDougal, states his client is innocent of all charges. Three murders near our sleepy town are causing a mass panic._

The newspaper was scandalous and one-sided. The paper was clean and hadn't yellowed as fast as the other.

Gabriel had been arrested for his brother's murder? How far did this go? Erica's breathing became shallow.

No. She'd not hyperventilate. She put her hands on her face to cover her nose and mouth and forced herself to take deeper breaths. Three murders. Plus his dead wife. Her pulse raced, and her brain, full of questions, took over.

The woman might have had a gun to protect herself. It was a possible explanation. No one else would do this, though Tiffany might have been crazy. She had said multiple times Gabriel would kill her.

The list of suspects for the police centered on the man who made Erica's heart complete, but the diary entries also sounded like Tiffany had done everything.

In war, the man had been captured and tortured.

Erica rubbed her temples. She had a backbone in business, and she'd grow one here too. She stood and brushed her hands together to get the dirt off her. Had the events played out because of his posttraumatic stress and his inability to talk about it?

The question swirled in her mind and her ears rang. To calm down, she locked her thoughts on her most likely suspect.

Tiffany hadn't cared enough about her husband to ask questions—that much had been obvious from the diary.

Erica turned her head to the books on the vanity. She flipped one open and a receipt for a pharmacy fell out. At least seven different prescriptions had been purchased around the time of the murders. The name on them had faded out. Strange. Perhaps it had been rubbed out. The wrong dose of things could be a cause of death, at least according to celebrity death reports on her television.

Or Tiffany had drugged Raphael into the entire affair. The diary had read "concoction to get him into bed," hadn't it? Erica rubbed her arms and wondered if the crazy thought was right.

However, Gabriel had mentioned he saw a doctor, who had told him to work with his hands to keep busy.

Erica's mind swirled. She made a clicking noise in her mouth and decided the pills must have been Tiffany's. This was her secret room, after all.

Alicia had been poisoned. Erica flipped open the hardcover book of _Murder on the Orient Express_ and blinked. Inside she found another diary, not the expected book.

The first page told Erica plenty about Tiffany.

_The day of my wedding is when I saw my true love standing in the aisle. Raphael Murphy will be mine. Gabriel ships off to war in two weeks. I can pretend, then follow my heart. I pretended with Alan until I hooked Gabriel. His brother will be easier. He'll check up on the lonely wife. Ha. I'll set the groundwork for Mr. Sexy Brown Eyes when he comes over to help me out, and he'll spend time with me. I guilted Gabriel into this marriage through one manipulation. Perhaps I can use a different approach with Raphael. I always get what I want._

No woman in love wrote words like that. It would be so easy to blame her for Gabriel's downfall.

In his right frame of mind, Gabriel would have seen how manipulative the woman was and divorced her. All of this could have been avoided if he had walked away.

The man turned away from her countless times, so maybe he had learned his lesson.

Another cough escaped her lips. Erica needed answers. The dust in the room made her nose itchy. Erica decided to take the book to her clean room and read there.

A few minutes later, she closed the secret door in the library, and her throat and nose cleared. The fire crackled and the room was warm. Yet the back of her neck tingled. And the tension that someone stared at her dissipated the longer she stayed near the fire. Strange.

Erica took a few more deep breaths, then let her shoulders relax. She found an empty notebook and a pen at a desk. Perhaps making a list would help her think more rationally.

In a march, Erica returned to her bedroom. Then she shoved the book under her bed and went to the kitchen to start dinner and write up the list.

Order helped her. She cooked, and the moment she put the chicken in the oven, she sat at the table with a pen.

_Could I love Gabriel? Yes._

_Can I forget my doubts? No._

She bit her lower lip and wrote her next question. _Do I want him in my life? Yes._

Hmm. She shook her head. Next question. _Can I accept murder in his past? No._

In big letters, she wrote and underlined, _GET HIS STORY._

Tonight, she'd show him the room and the gun.

No more delays. She'd get to the bottom of this. She'd push slowly with Gabriel. And she'd read more of the new diary. She didn't expect him back soon.

She lifted her chin and took the paper. Again the idea that someone was here remained her strongest instinct. Without a thought in her head, she went back to the library. Embers from the fire hypnotized her, and the feeling went away. The flames would destroy the paper in her hand. If some crazy ghost were here, they'd not get her list. She'd not leave anything to chance. She glanced around at all the walls.

In a flash, Erica decided, and threw the paper to burn it in the fireplace. She watched the paper curl, and her words disappeared in the flames. No one would take that from her, not that anyone was really here. Ghosts were not real, and it wasn't like anyone could sneak up the mountain. They were buried in snow. Outside, the snow couldn't melt fast enough.

Calmly, she went back to the kitchen. Gabriel's footsteps echoed in the hallway a moment later, and heat rose in her body.

He was back.

She'd get her answers.

# Chapter 21

"I shouldn't have walked away from you earlier." Gabriel's face had a tint of redness still. "I needed to think."

Erica gulped and kept her gaze on the oven even as he hugged her. But her smile spread. If she stared back, he'd see how much she cared for him. Then he kissed her cheek, and her heart raced. She'd never been stupid in her entire life until she came here. Now everything she thought about herself was false. Everything was turned upside down.

She had no answer for what she should do, except her heart trembled near him. His hands on her stomach sent flutters throughout her body. Her head arched back the second he tugged at the loops on her jeans and sent hot embers of fire inside her.

Again, he kissed her neck. A twinge raced through her. Then he murmured, "I need you, Erica."

"I need you too." She sighed, and his hands held her so close. Despite everything, her heart begged for him.

"Falling for you is dangerous."

"I like danger." She turned her head and kissed his cheek; then his lower lip spread into a grin, like a sly boy's.

With a wink, he unzipped her pants, and his fingers traced her clit. Her cravings for him grew. He drew her pants lower, and he continued lower. She sighed as his hand grazed her curves.

Her heat level rose, and he drew her farther backward.

Finally, he picked her up and placed her on the kitchen table. She swallowed. Then he kissed her womanhood.

Uncontrolled, her body convulsed and shuddered. His tongue joined in on the action, and she became heady.

The second she arched her body, she spasmed and lost all control.

Instinct took her, and her eyes rolled backward for a second time. He stood, unbuckled his jeans, and pushed his cock into her, holding her trembling body on the table.

She reached out for him, and he pushed her backward. Finally, when he came, his release sent her into another earthshattering orbit.

Some time later, she tried to get up. He shook his head and kissed her bare stomach. "Stay there. I'll get your dinner."

An unfamiliar satisfaction slowly left her body. Her lips twitched and she sat. She stared at him and licked her tingling lips. She stared at his naked body. He went to get the plates to put the food on. "Men like you don't exist in real life."

He handed her a fork, and his huge bicep caught her gaze. She coughed.

"Sure we do. We hide in the mountains, waiting for women to come to us."

"Funny." She picked herself up and took a seat at the table. Falling in love with Gabriel was the easy part.

Her body stayed limber, and she jiggled in her seat. He pushed the full plate in front of her and she raised her eyebrows. She stilled the second he leaned closer to explain. "You'll need your strength tonight. Eat up."

"I will?"

"I have erotic plans to eat you later."

Her mind screamed at her to stop this, but her heart had other intentions. She loved him, and she'd prove to herself she could trust her instincts. Without a care, she told him, "I've always wanted to role-play. You be the cop. I'll be the bad-girl prostitute."

His eyes opened wide. "Damn, woman. Okay."

She ate fast, but she kept her stare directly at him. Now was not the time to think about love. She'd need the storm outside to end, so she had her options first.

He winked at her.

Her body stayed stimulated near him. And he ate decidedly slower with her rapt attention on him. She smiled and stared at him. She finished her plate. She stood to help clean her half, but he helped her rearrange her chair and, somehow, she ended up in his lap. She laughed, and he finished his dinner.

The second he placed his fork down, he suckled on her neck. "Just a sample of dessert, Snowflake. Go put something on for our game. Meet you in the library, where you're going to think you're meeting a client."

A laugh escaped her throat. "And to think I used to be a good girl, in full control of my life."

"You were bored and waiting for me."

Hmm. That might be a very true statement, not that she'd admit that to him. "Going now. Go get ready to be the cop."

His eyes stayed on her departing form, and delightful wickedness coursed through her. She then ran out of the kitchen at full speed. She rushed into her room but in her haste, didn't turn the light on. In the dark, she threw on a too-tight bra and a thong. Then she grabbed a pair of too-small red shoes and a shawl.

Outside, lightning cracked in the air, followed by the growl of thunder. Erica jostled back for a second, and the move caused a huge crash in the closet. She surmised she'd started a chain reaction, and other shoes in her closet fell off the shelf in rapid succession.

She checked the closet to see what she'd clean up later. Then she immediately glimpsed another news clip behind the shoes. That hadn't been there before. Her heart pattered as she stepped into her room for light. Gabriel Murphy's name was in bold letters.

Her stomach tightened, and the food threatened to come up the wrong way. She clutched her belly and stumbled backward. She refused to faint. She caught herself and closed her eyes. She told herself everything had to be fine. Her body and soul craved that man in the library. These reports were lies. Erica picked up the small news article and forced her shoulders to relax. As she unfolded the article, her shoulders dropped and a smile returned to her face.

It was a wedding announcement with a picture. Gabriel was the handsome younger man. Erica's fingers brushed against his shy smile in that photo. And Tiffany's smirk in another red dress of hers spoke volumes. She had stood in his arms, but her reaction had not screamed _happy_. The picture spoke plenty. Erica became convinced. It hadn't been a love match.

Surely in an engagement photo a couple stood close together.

Erica put it back on the shelf. She'd find it again and question him later. If he hadn't loved her, why would he marry her? He didn't seem stupid, so why didn't he see who Tiffany truly was before the marriage?

The lobby portrait of Tiffany played in her mind. Why would she have hung a picture of herself in a hotel lobby? And why was it still there? He'd have to take that portrait down.

Erica wrapped the shawl around her shoulders and sauntered to the library. She spied him immediately with a new, button-down shirt on, and his hands tucked into his clean black dress slacks.

She pasted a smile on. Her joking tone cracked a little. She said, "Are you looking for a good time, mister?"

He raised his sexy, dark eyebrows. "What kind of good time, young lady?"

Her shoulders tightened. Without intention, she glimpsed books on the floor. She must have not put everything back earlier. The weights in her stomach told her to tell him about the secret room now. Her knees weakened, though she forced a smile. Gabriel couldn't find out about her doubts or the room the wrong way. She'd tell him right after.

She hesitated, then met his gaze again, and her tensions dissipated. "The kind where we both get off."

His eyebrows arched. "Can you be more specific?"

Her shoulder brushed up against him. To continue her charade, she dropped her shawl, smirked, and pressed into his body. "Your hard-on keeps on growing. For a price, I can take care of that."

His erection grew. "Your tongue on my rocks is tempting. Come here, young lady."

She swayed her hips, and her breasts ached for his attention. Cravings grew, and she grazed his penis in rapt attention with her fingers. "For money, we'll come to a perfect understanding."

After he groaned, he twirled her around fast and pushed her into the wall that had the hidden chamber. Her body's wetness grew, and he locked her hands in his cuffs. "Erica . . ."

"Don't stop." A sigh escaped her lips and her pulse raced. Black spots appeared again in her vision, and the brush of his hands sent her into orbit.

"Okay. You've the right to remain silent . . ." His free hand cupped her breast and his lips pressed to her neck.

A moan escaped her. "Please, let me go."

"I'm taking you to jail for prostitution." His fingers found her nipple and squeezed her breast. He sent a shiver down her entire body. "Found one of your weak spots."

As she rolled her head backward, she begged, "Please. I'll do whatever you want."

"Erica, I want you, right now."

With a shove, she backed away from the wall, then relaxed. "Count me in, Officer."

The man played to her fantasy beautifully, and she'd thank him with her mouth. Until she met him, she'd have never done anything like this.

Emboldened, she took his manhood in her mouth, and she sucked him like she would a lollipop. His warm dick made his eyes bulge out in passion. His reaction told her he enjoyed this, and she sped up.

Without realizing, she leaned backward into the wall, and with his hands, he pushed at the secret door.

Instead of stopping, she pulled his entire cock in her mouth to somehow prevent him from discovering the room.

With a heavy groan, he took his manhood away from her. "Wait, Erica."

The pain in her chest grew. She couldn't let him go in there. Everything could change if he suspected her in any way. She reached for his manhood with her mouth, but he yanked her up to her feet. "There is a room behind you."

He stepped aside and pushed at the door. It creaked open. He didn't look at her at all. She pressed her lips together.

Her feet froze in place. Did she follow him? She struggled to stand straight. Stupidly, she had worn ridiculously small shoes. With tiny steps, she trailed behind him, but she couldn't take enough fast steps. "Gabriel, wait."

"This could be what I was looking for."

As she chased him in, she clinked and clanked for two steps inside the door. In a huff, she finally kicked the stupid heels off.

Barefoot, she followed him into the dusty place, her arms locked behind her. She held her breath in an effort to not sneeze. Her eyes watered from the dust.

He opened the drawer with the gun, and she gasped for air.

She clenched her eyes shut and refused to see.

The blackness hadn't answered anything. And silence wasn't an answer.

Her eyes opened, and she glanced over to see him shaking violently. "This must be where she hid."

Her heart beat so loudly in her ear that she almost didn't hear him. "You mean Tiffany?"

"It has to be here."

"What?"

Another cough escaped her lips from the dust. His head shook, and she glanced up from his hand. His eyes stared straight into hers, and then he unlocked the handcuffs. "Erica, you shouldn't be here. Go get dressed, Snowflake."

She stepped away from the desk and shook her head. Words didn't form in her throat while he took the few steps toward her. She should have told him. She bit her bottom lip and didn't know what to say. His fingers brushed her skin, and she averted her gaze.

She flinched. To her horror, she'd reacted stupidly. Then he placed his hand on her hip. He calmly told her, "Relax. This could solve a huge mystery for me."

A lump formed in her throat. In a blink, she tried to figure something out, and all that would come out of her mouth was a question: "What is this place?"

His words caught in his throat, "My wife . . . This was where . . . Never mind. Erica, go."

She took his wrist in her hand and turned him toward the door. "No, come with me."

As he took his arm back, he shook his head. "No, Snowflake. I need to find something."

The gun. She understood. She clutched her stomach. She had tingles in her chest.

In a rush, she left the chamber and grabbed her shawl with her cuffed hands. Perhaps she should have shown him. Should she wait in the library? She froze for a split second. But then she pushed her shoulders back and marched back into the dusty hidden closet of a room. Her limbs shook, and she had a sour taste in her mouth. She had to ask, "What are you looking for?"

He tapped his fingers to his chest and moved the dresser. "The woman—my wife—had a diary. I thought she destroyed it, but I need to find it."

Not the gun? Her stomach had rocks in it because she couldn't digest anything, especially her own actions. She closed her eyes. "Why?"

"The gun and the diary would prove she tried to frame me for her crimes."

She rocked on her feet. She had to tell him the truth. Yes, the diary made her question everything Tiffany ever said. Her mouth opened, and she whimpered. "She did it? I knew it. She killed those people, not you."

His eyes narrowed as he stared hard at her. "What did you say?"

Her mouth fell open. She had everything. Her eyes teared up in frustration. Why couldn't she speak? "Your wife, she framed you for three murders."

There was a tilt to his head, and his lips pressed together. "How did you know it was for multiple murders?"

She had chills that outweighed the coldness she'd endured. She lowered her gaze to finish this. "I have the diary in my room. I took it to read."

He shuffled backward a step. "You knew about this room?"

How red were her cheeks? Her face was heated.

She'd been stupid. He ran his hand through his hair, and their gazes locked. She couldn't speak that way, though, and lowered her focus to his mouth. "I found it the day you caught me in the library."

His stance widened. "Get me the diary."

"There are two, actually."

"What?"

"I found the first in my closet."

He shook his head, but said nothing.

"I'm sorry." Her cheeks were wet.

His cold, hard stare locked on her. He kept his mouth closed. Nothing had prepared her for that.

"There is a false door to the second drawer. The gun is there."

A gasp came out of his lips. He must hate her. Her eyes watered even more.

Her footsteps pounded on the wooden floor as she ran out of the room. She pressed her palm over her lips to hold back a cry.

# Chapter 22

Erica closed her bedroom door without any energy in her movements. Behind the door, everything hit her hard. She covered her mouth and hyperventilated. How had she made such an epic fail? Why hadn't she once thought to hand over the diary to Gabriel the very second he had opened up to her?

Waiting had made her appear untrustworthy. She had known better.

The word _frame_ had come out of his mouth, and her heart had almost fallen out of her chest. She believed him. Her heart always had. Her rationality had left her body the day she'd met him. Her delay was bad. Really bad.

She threw on a T-shirt and a pair of sweats. He wanted the diary. She'd bring it to him. Sex had complicated everything. Near the mess of shoes, she cringed and somehow hoped to stay in her closet. Until Gabriel, she never been this sexually forward with anyone. Tiffany had framed him. And Erica was just as bad. She hadn't told him what she had found. Sex had left her body tingling, and her dishonesty now ranked up there with her guilt. She let the overwhelming desire to disappear with the ghosts into the wall wash over her, and fought against her anxiety.

She rubbed her neck, like she was looking to free herself from a proverbial rope. He deserved the whole truth now.

Erica straightened her spine. She walked out of the closet and headed to her bed. The first diary waited there. She fell to her knees to find the book. As she inhaled, she searched for the book, but her fingers were like butter. She fished around but stilled. His footsteps echoed outside her room. Her heart thundered in her chest louder than gunfire.

If she crawled under the bed, she'd disappear. That had boatloads of appeal.

"Get up."

Instead she closed her eyes, and her hands trembled. She clutched the books to her body. With a stretch, she pulled back and handed him her items.

"That one's a book, not a diary."

With her head downcast, she refused to meet his gaze as she stood.

"It's a diary with a book cover. This is what I found in that room." She brushed to straighten her pant leg. He deserved the full truth. "And this diary is what I found in my closet."

His brow wrinkled. "Impossible. I searched her closet."

She shrugged. "It was there. I checked out her designer shoe collection and found it. She had a thing for bright colors."

With outstretched hands, she offered the books. His head shook. "Tiffany never did anything without starring in her own show. It's how my brother hatched a plan to flush her out."

Her nose wrinkled. "Your brother, Raphael?"

He rolled his eyes. Then he let out a derisive cough. "Yeah. My baby brother, her lover, as I'm sure you read."

Her face burned. "She killed him?"

"No."

"Thank goodness. I felt so awful for him."

She pushed the books into his chest, and then stared at her shoes, not his face.

Gabriel shook his head. "She thought she had. He's living in New York now, I hear, about to marry someone named Eileen. I don't know her last name."

A gasp escaped her lips, and she asked, "Why didn't he tell you where the secret room was?"

Gabriel crossed his arms and shook his head. "We don't talk."

"Why not?"

"He slept with my wife."

"She drugged him."

"What?" He shook his head. "A drugged man cannot have an erection."

"You're wrong. There is medication that causes all sorts of reactions." She took a step closer to him. He stepped back. She swallowed. "When you said you were framed, the diary made more sense. The book I found recently, I've only read page one."

His breath caught in his throat. She stared up, and he clutched the books. "Were you like everyone else, believing I did that?"

She'd wondered, and though she risked everything, she couldn't lie. "You wouldn't tell me what happened."

"Did you think I was a murderer?"

"No. Most of the time, no." She kept her gaze on his mouth and wished she didn't have to do this. "I didn't want to. I sought out more clues to prove you weren't. I found all these articles that said what happened, but you didn't want to talk."

He stepped backward. "So you thought so too?"

She couldn't hug him. Instead, she threw her arms out to her side and tried to explain. "I was torn. How could the man who has made my body ache be a murderer? The news article I found in the lobby. The diary in my room led me to the secret room in the library. I didn't know anything, and I set about to prove to myself you hadn't."

"You didn't tell me about anything."

"You never wanted to speak to me about anything."

"I changed, but now I see I was wrong."

"Please, don't. I'm sorry." Her eyes were wet. "I was falling for you hard."

He shook his head. "No. We're done. I can't do this anymore. You should have told me straight away."

After he turned on his heels and stormed out of the room, her chin quivered.

As the door slammed, her face tingled, and she fell onto the bed. Tears formed in her eyes, and she clutched her pillow to not let him hear. She'd done enough.

She should have told him sooner.

Tears rolled down her face.

The distant thunder of a storm echoed in the room. She had tingles in her chest, and her fingers were ice cold. How was she going to avoid him now? She was stuck.

There was no escape.

Every limb in her body shook.

# Chapter 23

The next morning, Erica woke, her body still numb. Her cheeks were caked with dried-up tears. Instead of spending the night next to her lover, she now stared at the white blanket of snow outside her window and curled into a ball on her bed. Love was complicated.

Love? What was that?

She threw the blanket above her head and hoped to make the dark cloud that hung over her head disappear. But every time she closed her eyes, she still faced the truth. Gabriel had been framed. And he believed she hadn't trusted him. What could she say that would make this better?

"I'm sorry" wasn't nearly enough.

Fresh tears formed, and she flashed to how he'd always taken care of her. He had been reclusive, but always good to her. She should have been grateful. It was why she'd been conflicted.

Her tears stopped, and red-hot fury took over her body. She'd have never thought any of this if not for Tiffany. What kind of wife framed her husband? If he'd married her instead, they'd have been happy.

In a flash, she covered her mouth and gasped. Daydreams only tortured her now. Gabriel had every right to not speak to her. She hadn't spoken to her sister, Kimberly, or tried to reach out to her despite her mother's illness. So in a way, she'd been judgmental. Besides, she'd have not noticed Gabriel in her busy but dull life. Well, she might have, but she stayed so focused on her mother and earning money that she'd have kept silent near her gorgeous angel.

Besides multiple daily visits to the hospital, she ran her own business. She hadn't time to form any romantic relationships or even made female friends. Not really. Gabriel had been a blessing that she hadn't pushed away.

She struggled with the stupid decision to find Kimberly, and that should have been done a long time ago. Now Mom had no one, and Erica had let everyone down.

Pessimism never helped her.

She glanced at her hands.

She blinked and stared at the shadow on the wall. She realized that though she was stuck with Gabriel, she had fallen half in love with the man already. Doubts kept her clueless. And though she's been open and honest in some ways, she'd kept her fears to herself.

Now she covered her head with her pillow and curled into a ball. _She'd_ never forgive herself. So there was no way he'd forgive her.

Her breathing hitched. Then she rubbed her head, in hopes she'd drive away the migraine. She'd caused this.

And for the next hour, she'd let herself stay numb.

Eventually, she stood and dressed without any extra life in her steps. She had a plan for today. Mediation had calmed her, and she had to stay focused. Perhaps she'd figure out yoga or read a book.

The windows rattled from another cold winter storm outside, but her head was so heavy that she had no reaction.

Her skin stayed chilly, but her mind was calm. She remembered the order of her discoveries. First, she'd found two of the articles in different rooms of the chateau. She rubbed her temples. After she threw on her tennis shoes and fixed the laces, she had a part two that ran in her head. If there had been one secret room, there could be more. Her mouth fell open. Wow. Why hadn't she thought that before? This time, she'd tell Gabriel the moment she found it.

The truth. If she finished her intention to find something to show him, well then, she'd at least prove to herself that she was worthy.

She shifted her weight. The place made more sense if she was right. She massaged her neck the best she could and then finished dressing. The idea of searching for more ways to help him prove that Tiffany had set him up appealed to her. She tapped her fingers on her chest. It was something she could do. Her heart lightened a bit. She'd stay busy. And if there was more evidence, she'd find it and give it to Gabriel.

Love came with forgiveness—at least, that was what her mom would have said to her. And with time, Erica hoped he'd forgive her. She fixed her hair behind her ears. She had to live with herself too.

As she bundled on a sweater, she told herself, "When I plan a surprise takeover and know someone could find one part, I have the real plans hidden somewhere else."

Yes. As she said it aloud, her pulse calmed into a routine beat. Instead of crumpling on the floor in tears, her gut hardened. Everything might be all right in the end if she found more rooms and showed Gabriel. He might even forgive her. She took a deep breath.

Hidden rooms could be anywhere in the chateau, and this place was huge. Goose bumps rose for no reason on her skin. She shook it off and started in her room. How many times had she had that sensation of something behind the wall? In order, she pushed on every wall. Her knuckles became hard, and she lost a bit of feeling from the constant bangs she made. Yet she continued. Everything sounded solid, but then her mind flashed to that hotel room upstairs.

She smoothed out the bottom of her sweater. There had to be one secret room up there. The doors all slammed shut, and she'd been the most afraid up there. She swallowed and rubbed her neck. How else would Alicia have died there? She'd have locked her hotel door. A secret passage made the most sense.

Erica's heart ached, and she hoped to see Gabriel soon. But he needed time. Whatever she found today, she's show him immediately. She'd never hurt him again.

Empowered, she left her room and checked the kitchen. Nothing stirred. She almost walked away but stopped. Gabriel deserved a good dinner, and her knuckles were bruised enough. So she opened the refrigerator and scanned for something fast. Then she would hunt down more secret rooms. Her body was calm. And besides, the small food offering would at least make her feel better. Food cured her sadness. And she'd ruined everything.

In a hurry, she threw everything into a pot to let it stew, then took off to the lobby. The library wall had been hollow, so she banged on the walls outside the drafty entrance room and tried to find the soft spots.

Her teeth chattered. The picture of Tiffany stared at her, and Erica froze. The howl of the wolves outside somehow emboldened her. She couldn't go anywhere, and walls didn't bite. Then, with a determined lift of her head, she refused to glance at that woman's portrait again. Gabriel deserved better.

She stopped and checked the back of the frame. The nail was too high, and she'd need something to stand on to get the portrait down. Perhaps she'd get Gabriel to help, or a sturdy ladder. She dropped the frame back on the wall. It made a loud thump. Then she set off up the stairs.

The main lobby needed a good cleaning, but Erica's heart raced now. She shook off the queasiness in her stomach and circled the room. Soon her knuckles ached, but she finished searching the room. No secret spaces in the main vast lobby, but the eyes of that creepy portrait seemed to follow her. Erica shook her head. Impossible thoughts were not needed right now.

Erica ran her hand through her hair. Then she looked up at Tiffany again. How had such a dainty woman been overlooked as a suspect? Was it the blonde hair? Erica's more mousy brown hair would never get her out of anything, including a speeding ticket, not that she'd tried. Erica hugged herself and then headed back into the apartment.

She needed to check upstairs, but first, she'd stir the stew. Hopefully she'd find a pair of soft gloves back in his small apartment.

Without hesitating, she opened the door and walked right into Gabriel. His ripped body sent a thrill down her. His large shoulders blocked her vision, and she almost lost her balance. His strong arms caught her as she swayed. Her hands and feet went still, and, slowly, she stepped back. "I'm sorry about everything."

His stare into her eyes made her cheeks burn, but she didn't blink. She was determined to face him.

He crossed his arms, like he needed to build a wall between them. "You should have told me, Erica."

She glanced to his chin and nodded. "Yeah, I should have. I was wrong, and I'm sorry."

As she lifted her chin up, he dropped his hands, then brushed her face for a moment. "You've dark circles under your eyes, Snowflake. I won't hurt you. I tend not to shoot at people who don't take a shot at me first."

He stepped back like his hand and body were on fire.

"Wait." She traced his arm and then placed her hand on his hip. He stopped, but gazed at his feet. She took a deep breath, then argued with him. "In your head, you can't let what happened in war and your wife be confused with what happened here, with us. The war is the past. Your wife is supposed to be someone you can trust. You don't like to talk about anything, and I wanted to help you. I should have told you the second I found the room. I was wrong, but I never set out to hurt you."

Instead of an answer, he shook his head and took a step to leave. She hugged his waist and refused to let him go. He brushed her hand off as he shook his head. "And the woman I'm having sex with and started to trust shouldn't think I killed people."

Queasiness grew in her stomach. He had trusted her.

"I don't. I wanted you to be able to talk to me." She touched his shoulder and hoped he'd turn back to her. "I begged you to talk to me. You wouldn't tell me, so I went looking."

He sighed, but she won, though the victory was hollow. He turned back to meet her stare. "I was opening up to you, but I shouldn't have. You're no better than anyone else."

With a shaky voice, she choked with her desperation and tried to bargain. "Wait. I said I was sorry. It should be enough. If I had been truly terrified of you, I couldn't have kissed you, never mind shared my most erotic fantasies. Before getting stuck here with you, I wasn't open to either. I was closed off to relationships of any kind."

"You found what I've spent over a year searching for, Erica. I owe you." Instead of saying anything else, he turned away from her again. He stared out the window at the never ending snow. She stood there and gazed at him. The rattle of the wind broke the silence first. Then he told her, "I have a plan to get us out of here."

"You do?" She stepped closer to him, and became overwhelmed. She sniffed his manly scent that turned her insides to jelly.

Gabriel stayed stiff and kept his arms to the side of his body. He stayed silent for a moment, then told her, "I've spent the day fixing up my snowmobile and gassed it up.. I needed a few tools to ensure it's engines purr. Tomorrow morning, I'll test it out. If it works, I'll drive you down the mountain."

"No." Her hand went to her hip, and she shook her head.

He turned around to stare at her and raised his eyebrows. "No?"

She shook her head. "No. Absolutely not. I'm not leaving, not like this."

"Your mother needs you."

She put her hand on her hip. "True, but that sounds dangerous."

"I'll get you home."

"You won't be able to get back to your own house."

He crossed his arms. "I'll manage."

She dropped her hand to her side. "If there was one secret room, there may be more."

"Don't bother yourself."

She gazed into his eyes. "I will find it."

"Erica, stop."

She swallowed. "Mom wouldn't want us both to die."

"We might make it."

"Not good enough. We're waiting until it's safe to go outside, and I'm not leaving before I finish tearing this house apart."

"I don't understand you." Gabriel tilted his head and stared at her. She held still and waited for him to say something else.

Instead, he walked away. She hadn't known what else to say. Not that she knew what his silence meant. In time, he'd have to forgive her. She wasn't going to let him kill them both with his insane plan. Her eyes were watery, but she refused to cry. Every argument she'd spoken had been true. And she'd see this through to the end.

With a tortured sigh, she headed to the stove and stirred the stew. Dinner smelled succulent.

Suddenly, she heard a loud bang and froze. The windows rattled from the wind in the next second, but that wasn't the first noise.

A cold sweat on her skin made her hands clammy. Her neck had those tingles again, like someone else was here. She inhaled.

A crash reverberated in the air.

What? She dropped the spoon in the stew and flinched. This wasn't a storm outside.

She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. Whatever that was, it was big and metallic.

She shook her head. Noises made no sense. Had she imagined it? Gabriel was in another part of the house.

She fetched the spoon out of the stew. After she washed it, she strode to where the bang had come from.

Strange. She had never heard things in her life until she'd come to this house.

Her stomach hardened. She believed something saw her as prey, but the wolves were outside.

Her shoulder barely ached now. He'd taken excellent care of her.

Had Gabriel hurt himself? Had he left a door open?

She hurried. In the laundry room, she opened one door, then the second to where he worked. His snowmobile sat in the middle of the room. He must have cracked it against a wall. She let out a breath she hadn't known she held. No, she'd not leave. She wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms.

As she tapped her foot, she stuck out her chin until he came back in the room to stare at her. She met his intense, pained brown eyes. "We wait until the snow melts."

He nodded at her and met her gaze. "It would be safer to wait."

He didn't say another word, and she nodded back. "Good. Dinner is almost ready. Clean yourself up."

Her hips swayed. She could feel that he was watching her figure. His gaze fired up her skin, and the coolness inside her dissipated. Slowly, she headed back into the apartment. Until she left, he stayed silent, so she slammed the door behind her. Her dramatic exit made, she let herself breathe. She wished she hadn't doubted him, but she'd never given up on any of her intentions. She'd fix what she did.

And she'd find whatever other secrets were left in this house.

The search began again after lunch. First, she'd try to talk to Gabriel.

The tingles on her neck went away, though. The creepy feeling that someone stared with hate at her in the kitchen again hadn't washed away with all the truth telling, and it was time to put whatever haunted him to rest.

# Chapter 24

Gabriel never came in for dinner, and Erica lost some of her determination. Dejected, she watched the night sky grow darker. If he ever showed up, she's apologize. Perhaps today wasn't the day. She wrapped the meal and went to bed without one glance at the door he'd left from. On her walk to her room, her shoulders slouched and her stomach was queasy and light, despite the hearty meal she'd made. Hopefully, sleep would help her. She opened her bedroom door and stayed determined. Tomorrow was another day and she had nowhere else to be.

A roar of an oncoming storm greeted her ears. She refused to kill herself and him if she had tried to escape down the mountain of snow. In time, he'd have to speak to her.

Neither of them had an escape route. So hopefully he'd forgive her.

In her closet, she changed into flannel pajamas. The storm tonight would be another setback to winter ending. Gabriel had kept her alive. The memory of his gentle strength and massive shoulders hit her hard. He had held her until she wasn't cold anymore.

Damn. She'd screwed up. She brushed her hair out. Then she stared at herself in the mirror, and thought she saw something white in the corner.

Her eyes narrowed, and she blinked. Nothing moved. She turned toward the spot, and stared at a wall and her shoes near the door.

Wishful thinking, no doubt, that Gabriel would arrive.

After she finished with her hair, she placed the brush back on the vanity and stared at the door.

At least everything was out in the open now. No more secrets.

Yet her shoulders were tense, and she had goose bumps on her arms. Her mind screamed, but she shook it off. With a deep breath, she opened her hand and stretched to let go. Coldness hit her neck and icicles raced down her spine. Strange. She rolled her hands out in a circle to relieve stress.

Finally, the goose bumps on her neck stopped and she could breathe.

No more murder mystery plot played in her head. If she found another secret room, she'd solve the mystery and regain Gabriel's trust.

With her gaze downcast, she caught sight of the sores on her hands. Her palms needed a good soaking and a good moisturizer to heal. The lobby had been big. Tomorrow, she'd start on the rooms, which were much smaller.

She took herself into her bedroom. Sleep escaped her. So she paced a minute, then decided to take a long shower. Perhaps she'd find some moisturizer under the sink.

A half hour later, she turned off the faucet. Her ears perked up, and she hoped to hear some sign of Gabriel. But silence greeted her ears.

With a heavy sigh, her head hit the pillow, and her body burned for Gabriel. The wind rushed past her windows. The mirrors in her room represented her past, empty and devoid of life. The gamut of emotions she'd experienced here had changed her. In the past, she'd stayed intensely focused on money for her mom. And all success had steered her away from love and sex. She'd never forget Gabriel and wasn't ready to give up. As she stared at the ceiling, she raised her hand up above her pillow and decided. She wanted him back. She might be falling in love with him.

Hmm, well. Everything started with sex. Perhaps it was time to find a way to get him back in bed.

Her mother would say that wasn't a good plan, but Erica's muscles relaxed at the thought. Pretense of a relationship wouldn't sate her for long. She longed for all of Gabriel.

As she nodded off to sleep, she remembered how she told Gabriel her fantasy of waking up to sex. A small smile appeared on her face. She had told that man every wicked thought in her head. Goodness knows she hardly did anything beyond read a few books. If he came to her, it meant he'd forgiven her. As she drifted off, she tugged the covers up to her head and wished he'd take her again.

She woke up the next morning, alone and untouched, and brought her legs up to her chin. She'd have to change her approach. Confrontation had never worked with Gabriel, though until she came here, she'd never had much patience. She ran her hand through her disheveled hair. She'd have to break him down slowly with understanding, and not be pushy, and let everything be. This plan included time with him, and she wasn't much use with a hammer.

Food worked as her best weapon. He'd have to eat at some point, and her meals had won awards.

This plan sounded reasonable, but she also had her search to take some of the time away.

Suddenly she stood, and her steps were heavy with determination. Gabriel's steps became clearer with every second. She gulped. She quickly threw together what he called shepherd's pie, though she added lemons to make it taste like picadillo, Miami's more spicy version.

A few minutes later, she finished. The footsteps stilled, but he didn't come into the kitchen.

She let out a sigh. Eventually she'd win. She bundled on sweaters and left the warm apartment. More secret rooms meant more evidence his wife had set up him up, and she'd eradicate one of his demons. In her pocket, she found another layer of gloves, though in the drafty room, she quickly stopped to read the article on Alicia Hatfield again. Did it mention a room number? She'd found the article on the second floor.

A secret room where the murder took place would give someone a way in and out. If the police hadn't known about the rooms, it was probable no one bothered to check the walls.

She crumpled the paper in her back jean pocket. No news on the room number, but she'd head up to where she had found the news clipping.

On the step, she closed her eyes and vaguely remembered the number 203 on one of the papers. This time, she used a flashlight from the laundry room and headed up the stairs. At the top step, she flashed the light at the room numbers. Her eyes widened. She'd found the article in the same room.

A chill raced down her spine. Someone had been murdered here. On the steps where she stood. Erica straightened her outer sweater. Dread was natural, but the killer was long dead.

As she pushed inside, she glanced around to check out the room. Her neck tingled here, and the coldness spooked her. She squared her shoulders and headed straight to the walls, where she threw her gloves on the nearby bed, then began knocking.

The sound of her banging reverberated in the air. The walls were solid near the dresser and windows. Her palms ached by the third wall, next to the bed. She swallowed and continued. The sound changed halfway. This time, the wall echoed hollow.

A giggle escaped her lips. To stop her smile, she bit her bottom lip and used her palm to trace the wall. In the library there was a switch near the solid walls. A few seconds later, she found the door latch. It clicked, but nothing moved. She pushed harder.

Nothing, though her neck tingled. She developed cold sweats, like someone stood behind her. Erica turned around fast, but no one was there. She rubbed her temples, then went inside. Would secret rooms explain the walls?

The other secret room had a handle to click, but nothing on the wall moved there. A chill racked her, and goose bumps appeared all over her body. In a flash, she froze, and her head shouted inside her to run away, but her legs held her strength anyhow. She refused to give up on this.

If she opened a secret door, she'd have something to tell Gabriel. Her legs were stronger than her hands, and she used her backside. To try with her biggest asset, she leaned back with her butt and pushed hard into the wall.

Finally, it lurched open, and she fell in. But her fingers became clammy, and she dropped her flashlight.

Landing on her butt, she bounced.

Ouch.

Her flashlight crashed in the other room and shattered into pieces. The whoosh of dust brought tears to her eyes. Suddenly, the door swung closed behind her. She screamed and leaped to get to the door. She landed back in a heap with the door slammed in her face.

She took dirt into her lungs, and coughed until she could breathe again. She covered her mouth. Blackness surrounded her with no chance of light. She shed a few tears, then stopped. Was she trapped in the secret room about to die? Her mind raced, but she shook her head. No. Now she had a new set of problems. She needed to think.

She'd get out of this.

She stared into total darkness, unable to see.

She cringed and fought back dizziness from the lack of oxygen in her lungs. Slowing her breathing became easier. The dust settled back down.

Finally, she stopped gasping and waved her hand in front of her face. She could barely make out anything. She blinked, but didn't see much at all.

Even during a blackout in Miami, after a hurricane knocked out all power, she'd never been in this much darkness.

Her pulse raced, and she picked herself up. Taking careful steps forward, she tried to find the door. With a few small steps forward, she almost lost her balance, like someone with tiny hands had pushed her. She swallowed. Her thoughts were impossible. Her vision became a little sharper, though everything remained dark. Her fingers gripped the wall, and she stayed upright. "Hello?"

The blackness of shadow had an outline of a woman and stole away her sight.

No one answered.

Instead of panic, she tipped her toes and hit a step. A fall would break her neck. She rubbed the back of her head. Whoever was here preferred to hide. Erica reached out with her hand to find and trace the second wall through the room. Was she in a hallway? The walls were so long, and the step went down. If this was a hall, then she'd find another way out. Determined, she found grooves to latch her fingers into and held firm.

A chill ran down her spine, like someone hunted her. Erica Mira refused to die here, not like this. The iciness kept her alert, and she stared into the darkness. Did she go back to find the door?

With a gulp, she decided to push backward, and internally counted her steps. The second she found the door, she'd get out. As she traced the walls, she launched herself in the other direction, away from the stairs. She'd claw her way out.

Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Not much, but the wall had to go back into the room. The shadow of a woman disappeared. Maybe she'd imagined it, but Erica refused to be still. She banged on the wall, but her head screamed to be silent. Erica shook her head. No one was here. The voice of panic made no sense. She took a breather, then stared at her hand. There had to be a handle. Her fingers left the wall and knocked on her way down the hall. She didn't find anything.

She followed the wall until she almost tripped again on a step.

She scratched her head. She couldn't figure it out. Where was the door?

If she went up, everything would be worse. Gabriel lived downstairs. No one was up there. But then, if there was a step and one wall, maybe a door was on the other wall, and she was disoriented.

Perhaps the design of the secret door was how someone broke into Alicia's room. Tiffany wouldn't have a way out if she'd poisoned her, so she scared the woman and threw her down the flight of stairs. The door only worked one way.

The chill that someone watched Erica's every move stayed on her back, and she refused to let go of hard surfaces.

She bit her lip and traced the other wall for grooves on her way back.

After a few feet, she pushed with her butt against both sides of the walls. Everything was solid.

Her heart raced faster. She'd get out. She'd keep the faith. She tried the next wall, and no latch was found.

Gabriel would never find her here. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The man worked all day and had no idea about the secret door upstairs.

She'd have to find her own way out. He was down a flight. He had said the servants complained the most about ghosts. There had to be a way to get back to him.

With grit, she opened her eyes and focused on her hands. The sensation that someone stared at her remained. Every cell in her body stayed on alert. The wall had no hitch as far as she could gather.

Her vision had adjusted slightly to the darkness, but there was dust and grime everywhere. There had to be a connection on the lower level. The secret room, her bedroom, and Gabriel's were all down there. The steepness of the steps was all dark and mysterious. Maybe she'd imagined the push, but she took no chances.

Still, she traced the wall, and this time, as she reached the steps, she sat.

She'd get filthy, but she didn't want to fall to her death. Her butt weighed her down, and her feet pushed lower, one step at a time. She descended the stairs as a child would, but her balance would prevent her from tripping and falling to break her neck.

Inch by inch she lowered herself, and kept her hand on the nearest wall. The dirt would wash off. She flinched the second her fingers ran over some heavier layers of dirt.

Soon her feet found the bottom step, and her gaze became a little clearer.

There was slightly more light coming from the floor and bottom of the walls here. The buzz in her ears played like music. She tapped on the wall, but she knew he'd not hear her. On the other side of the wall, Gabriel must be running some electricity.

Her heartbeat raced, but her breathing grew easier. She'd find her way out now. As she banged on the wall with more grit, she hoped to get his attention, though she doubted he'd hear anything.

With every step she took, she could see clearer, and her steps became emboldened. There had to be a way out. With light, she'd find a door. From the inside, it had to be easier to see. She continued to knock everywhere, and she circled through the house until her eyes caught a latch and a door spring.

Yes. A smile brightened her face, and she tugged. The door clicked and she opened it wide.

She stepped into the light into Gabriel's polished new kitchen.

In the gleaming cookware, she caught her reflection. "Dirty" didn't describe her. Her hair had streaks of grime. Her lips curled. She needed an immediate shower.

The sound of power tools cutting wood pierced her ears in the distance.

Her feet froze on the spot, and she called out, "Gabriel Murphy."

The buzz of tools in the distance told her he'd not hear a word. She picked up a pot and shoved it in the secret doorway to keep it open. Then she followed her ears. She called out, "Gabriel."

The sawing sound became louder and louder. The man wouldn't hear over that noise.

Finally, she found him working at a bench with a work hat and headset on. He had his back to her. For a moment she stared at him and tried to decide how to approach him. Without warning, he powered off and stood straighter.

All she could see was his wide shoulders.

With his back to her, he laid his tool down but didn't turn around. She needed him. He took off his headphones. Then he called out to her, "Erica, I'm not ready to talk yet."

"Doesn't matter." She brushed her hand on his shoulder. "I need you to look at me. I found a secret room. I know how Tiffany went into Alicia's room."

He flinched, and his eyes opened wider the second he twisted around to see her. "What happened to you? Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm fine, though I've been trapped for hours."

"Don't go running around this house." He checked her arm for cuts and bruises. "It's dangerous without power."

His warmth was what she needed. She offered him a tentative smile. "I'm okay, at least physically. The hall was so dirty, but I'm fine. Emotionally, I'm hoping you can forgive me."

He closed his eyes, and he shook his head. "I don't want to make a mistake."

"Me neither." She swallowed. "It is a mistake if we fall apart."

"I don't know."

Then he took a deep breath. She'd not push him on that. Then he opened his eyes, and she touched his gloved hand. "Come with me. I found a secret passageway. I was just stuck in it when I was checking out the room Alicia stayed in. I know how Tiffany snuck into her room."

He instantly took his work gloves off, brushed the sawdust off him, then squeezed her hand. "Show me."

As she nodded, dust came off her and landed on him. He didn't care, and placed his hand on her back. "I don't think we're alone in this house," she said.

"No one else is here. They'd have showed themselves to me years ago."

"I saw the figure of a woman."

"You couldn't have."

She smiled brighter now, and her shoulders relaxed. "I'm glad I believe you. This is the part in the movies where the bad guy reveals himself and the heroine fights for her life in a horror."

His gaze narrowed like she had verbally attacked him. Heat burned her cheeks, and she bit her bottom lip, though she hadn't meant it like that. He slowly asked, "What do you mean?"

Despite how she wrinkled her nose, she tried to talk her way through this. "The plot twist where the heroine becomes the victim. It's why I hate those movies. The girl trusts the wrong person."

Gabriel took his hand back and stepped away. "Are you saying you're scared of me?"

Her filthy hands covered her mouth as she shook her head. "I never say the right words with you. That's not what I meant. I meant the woman. Please come."

Back in the kitchen, she pointed to the wall. "I feel safe in this house only when I'm with you."

His intense stare caught her off guard. Then he broke their gaze. She pushed on the wall and it opened.

He poked his head inside the secret door. "This goes to the second floor?"

"Yes." She watched him and waited till he stepped back inside with her.

"I'm getting a flashlight and my gun."

"A gun?" Her mouth dropped, though she had wondered if someone had pushed her. "I still don't think we're alone in this house. Is is possible someone else is here?"

"No. I don't think so." He shook his head. "I'd have found them years ago, but sometimes my tools go missing, and the day you arrived, I thought you were the incarnated ghost for a moment. I used to think I was going crazy."

A lightness entered her heart as she told him, "I sometimes think someone watches me too. Whoever it is doesn't like me."

"Impossible. You're almost perfect."

She was? Did he forgive her now? She swallowed.

His fingers looped around her and settled on her back. "Go inside and wash up. We'll talk tonight. Nothing happens inside the apartment, and I want to see what this is. We probably don't have anything to worry about."

The walls in her room had created the tingles in her neck so many times, like someone else was there. Both times, though, the tiny hands found her in the house, and not in the apartment. "Be careful. I'll come looking for you in an hour."

Every cell in her body begged to go with him. Now was not the time to split up, and she wasn't the type to sit at home and wait. She chewed on her lip. She had to trust him. He thought she hadn't. Her feet pointed toward him, and she was ready to argue. Then she dropped her hands to her side. As he held the door open for her, he shook his head. "Two hours. I might see something and want to check it out."

With one shoulder, she shrugged, then nodded. "Deal. Two hours."

He gave her the first smile he had in days. "Go. Wash yourself, Snowflake."

Her heartbeat raced, and she grinned back. The second he turned away, she ran back to her room. He had used her nickname again. Her heart soared out of its cavity as she raced back inside the house to wait for him.

# Chapter 25

Her hands trembled. Erica paced the kitchen floor. The food was packed up, not that she ate anything. Her stomach roiled at the thought of eating, and her nose turned upward every time she smelled her own cooking. She turned around and dropped her hands.

Then she stared at the clock. The minute counter said twenty minutes had passed since she'd last peeked. She sighed, then tied her wet hair up with an elastic and located a hat. Gabriel's time was almost up. Hopefully nothing had happened to him. Her feet tapped the floor. She couldn't wait anymore. She squared her shoulders and fought back her anxiety. She counted all her fingers. Gabriel was one minute late. He could have fallen down those stairs.

She wrapped a scarf around her neck. Then she heard heavy footsteps in the hall. The thunder of his shoes on the wood floor sent electricity that ran right through her. She raced out of her bedroom and spotted him carrying a box.

His brown eyes met hers. He was fine. Then she took in the dirt on his jeans. He tipped his head to greet her. "Let me clean myself up. Meet you in the kitchen."

Food. Her initial plan of action. She should have heated something.

Her eyes followed him to his room until he closed his door. In a flash, she took the scarf and hat off and headed into the kitchen. She threw the shepherd's pie concoction into the oven for ten minutes. Food preparation would help her anxiety and feed her stomach.

Silence greeted her ears, and her teeth chattered a bit. Today, they'd talked. She decided to open a can of vegetables. Not her favorite, but she couldn't pop to the market to buy fresh.

Canned anything didn't take long to cook. Without much effort, she boiled the water and fretted about. Every thirty seconds, she checked the pantries. Then his slightly damp hand cupped her shoulder.

Tension dissipated the moment he did, and sparks of desire coursed through her. She turned around and met his succulent brown eyes. "Come sit with me."

Her eyes narrowed on his other hand. "Why are you carrying the diaries and that box?"

He kept his mouth pressed together for a minute. She stilled. Then he quietly told her, "My brother said there were DVDs to prove what she did, but they were never located."

Evidence. She crossed one of her arms over her body and studied the box. "He didn't know where they were?"

"I don't know." He set the box on the table. "Raphael had set Tiffany up to save me, and he claimed not to know."

"Like I said, I think she drugged him."

Gabriel crossed his arms. "At the time, I thought he'd betrayed me when he slept with my wife."

"He helped you. That counts."

"Maybe you're right. He said he never remembered it."

"The diary made me think she manipulated and murdered people. Forgive Raphael. He's your brother."

"I don't want to talk about Raphael."

"So you don't talk to each other?"

"That's an understatement."

"My sister is a free spirit, and we argued all the time as children. Then one day, without warning, she was gone. Mom and I both missed her." She let out a deep sigh. "Your wife set out to have your brother, just as she set out to have you. Like you, he was tricked. You were both her victims."

Without a word, he sat back in his chair and shook his head. Finally he answered, "I fell for it. And I guess so did he. But the difference is she was single when I met her."

Her tongue clicked against her bottom lip. "Or she murdered that Alan guy to be with you."

His eyebrows shot up. "Who's Alan?"

"The guy she almost married until she married you."

"How do you know that?"

"I read her diaries; you weren't the first. With every page I read, I felt worse and worse for you."

"Everyone believed me guilty."

"They were wrong." She took the seat beside him. "Tell me what happened."

"I don't know who Alan was." He shook his head. "And I never met her parents or her sister. My wife repeatedly said she had no family and that she wanted me to die in war."

Erica's mouth dropped open. "Wait, she said that about you?"

He tugged on his ear. "Yeah."

"Evil." She wrapped her hand on his arm. "I am glad you're here, angel."

He squeezed her hand on the table but said nothing.

She thought about him a lot. And he needed help. Whatever happened was the past, and he needed to heal. "Keep talking. You were home a year before the murders, you said."

He closed his eyes, and she could see a pulse beat at his temple. She guessed he remembered something. A moment later, he opened his eyes and nodded. "Yes, though one winter before I spent in Germany. She stayed in New York. I came home when I could, and even then she was unhappy."

"New York, not here." She kept her voice light. "Interesting, but off topic. Let's focus on this place and how to clear your name. We need evidence of what happened here to you."

"We?" He ran his hands through his hair. "I've never said any of this out loud to anyone who didn't want to throw me in jail."

"Not even your lawyer?"

"He was bought and paid to get me off. I don't think he cared if I was guilty or innocent."

"I believe you."

He stilled and gazed into her eyes.

"I intended to find proof you were innocent." She moved her hand to his knee, and she tilted her head to ensure they made eye contact. A moment later, his gaze met hers, and she offered more support. "I'm not here to judge. But I need to know what happened."

Heat rose inside her. He placed his hand on top of hers and let out a long, drawn-out breath. Then he answered. "After Reilly O'Shea, our caretaker here for ten years, was killed, all eyes were on me. They even had my prints on my old medicine bottle used to store the poison. I didn't know what would happen to me. Then Raphael showed up with his plan, admitting to his adultery. He claimed he was ashamed he'd let himself fall that low. He wanted to just be my brother again. Tiffany had been setting the whole thing up."

She lightly stroked Gabriel's arm and nodded. "So he had a plan."

"I guess." Gabriel kept his hand on hers. "He worked with my lawyer, getting her to confess publicly while hiding two police officers in the house to listen to every word."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why didn't he videotape the conversation? I'd have done that."

He shrugged and shook his head as he answered. "Maine is one of twelve states in the nation that doesn't allow video evidence to be used in court. I wasn't involved in the plan much, as they wanted to keep me safe."

She intentionally kept a gentle tone. "But your brother was shot?"

With his eyes on her nose, Gabriel answered, "She shot him with one of my guns."

Her jaw dropped. Wasn't Raphael the love of her life, according to her own words? This made no sense. Her diary said she wanted to get back with Raphael. Why would she shoot him? "What?"

Gabriel massaged his temples. "He told her he'd never let me take the fall for what she did, and that he'd go to the police. She didn't know the police were listening to every word."

"Wouldn't she still be considered guilty of attempted murder? You don't get to shoot at people with the police present."

He massaged his neck. "They considered the moment some accident."

Her mouth stayed opened. "Wow. I'm glad he's okay."

Gabriel sat back in his chair, and his gaze was so intense. All she could do was stare back at him. "I don't know what to say or think or feel. Brothers honor wedding vows."

She nodded. "And adults need to let go of grudges. He was her victim too. How did she die?"

His eyes went dead, like she had hit a nerve, and he dropped his hand on hers. The second the snow melted, she'd find her sister and apologize. For right now, she'd be the friend Gabriel needed. Her heart was so open to him. Gabriel stared at the ground unmoving, but slowly he answered. "My lawyer told me she died in a standoff with the police. They won, but I never buried her."

"Did you identify her body?"

"I did it, through photographs. I can't stand the sight of death."

The hair on the back of her neck stood. She mirrored Gabriel as she pulled back. "Strange. Why didn't you bury her just to make sure she was dead and gone?"

"I couldn't handle the details. She shouldn't be in the grave with my last name." He stared at the door. "I left her in the city morgue for the state to handle everything."

She gazed into his haunted expression. She'd not push on that subject. She wasn't sure she'd see to the burial of someone who tried to kill her either. But what if the officials screwed up? She squeezed his leg. "So why do you want the evidence?"

The fire in his gaze returned, and his voice grew stronger with every syllable. "The gun Tiffany used on Raphael wasn't the same gun she owned. It was mine. But I've been looking for these DVDs and her gun for years, and until I figure out how everything went wrong with this house, I'm not leaving."

Secrets in the walls. She had found the secret rooms. She nodded, then directed his attention to the DVDs. "Where were these?"

"In the secret room leading to your bedroom."

A huge sigh of relief formed in her head. She wasn't crazy. She tapped her chest and her eyes widened. "My room? What?"

His smoldering gaze sent her body into overdrive. He nodded. "Yeah. If I'd known, I wouldn't have put you there."

With a hard swallow, she relaxed because she trusted him. He had no idea how turned on she'd become suddenly. It was his nearness, and now was not the time. "Continue the story."

"The police cleared me of all charges, but I've tried to make sense of everything. There wasn't enough evidence."

"That's amazing." He wasn't on the run or still a suspect. Someone else must have thought Tiffany guilty, but she hadn't found those articles. Strange, but Erica's entire body felt lighter.

He shook his head. "Something in this story never rang true. After reading her diary, I found she wasn't happy. I wish she'd have asked for or agreed to a divorce."

"You weren't either. You can't force someone, especially someone with a sick mind, to do anything they don't want to do." She pushed her bottom lip out. "To me, a divorce is cleaner than a 'let's murder someone' idea. That's extreme."

His voice had a mocking tone suddenly. "Tiffany never lived her life like ordinary people."

Erica shrugged and answered with a smile, "Divorce tends to be cleaner than murder, and she'd be free to sleep with drug or manipulate the next man that caught her eye."

"That doesn't sound nice."

She nodded. "True. I'm glad you're free now."

He winced, then ran his hand in his hair. He stared at her and then told her, "Don't."

No. She'd not let him pull away. Distance wasn't needed anymore. He needed to let go of the past. "It's okay, Gabriel."

Slowly, he leaned toward her and took her hands. "I promised you. I'm getting you out of here. You can go back to your life, free of all this."

That was a sudden topic change. She met his gaze. "I don't want to go anywhere without you."

"We can't." His face froze.

She had energy that coursed through her now. If he could talk like he had today and find it in his heart to forgive her, then yes, they could have a future. Her heart fluttered. "Yes, we can."

Without a word said between them, she decided to be more dramatic. This talk deserved to get more physical, and she'd make her point. She unbuttoned her shirt and his eyes grew larger.

His voice cracked while he told her, "We made a huge mistake."

"You've been right for me." She picked up his hand and placed it on her heart. Then she offered him a small smile and told him, "Don't you see how I burn for you? I'm so busy out there. With you, I'm here. I'm honest. And, most of all, I'm alive. We are not a mistake. Please take me, Gabriel."

His eyelids lowered, and her skin tingled in awareness of him. She'd never been this brave before. She'd never asked for a man to come to her. She licked her lips and waited. Then his tender, callused hands touched her creamy skin and every pore electrified. The moment he squeezed her breast, her body ached.

"We shouldn't."

He hadn't sounded convincing at all. She'd lay odds he needed a small push, and she noticed his erection. Boldly, she sat on his lap and picked up his other hand. Pushing forward, she placed his palm on her back. "You want me. I want you. I can't help myself with you."

As she ran his hand on her leg, he sent tingles through her body. "You'd tempt a saint."

She shook her head. "I'm no saint. I want my dark angel."

His mouth curled into a grin. As she leaned up to kiss him, she moaned. His lips crushed hers, and the tingling coursed through her.

She curled her hands in his hair and drew him closer. Then her legs wrapped themselves around him.

"Erica, you're impossible to say no to."

She arched her back and trembled. His hands circled her waist. She was instantly turned on, and energy coursed through her. But his fingers trailed lower to her jean zipper. The heat in her body grew until the lights flickered off.

They both froze. As she stood, he picked her up with him, and she brushed against his erection. A moment later, the power went out. The entire house and apartment was black. The wind rattled the windows and the stars gave off hardly enough light. With a quick kiss, he told her, "I've got to check the generator."

"I'll go into the bedroom and wait for you there."

He let her down. She smirked, and in a tease, she decided to loosen the jeans. To demonstrate, she gave him her back.

Emboldened, she brushed her naked stomach, and he let out a small groan. But he walked past her down the hall.

She picked her pants off the ground and bounced back into her room. Without a care, she opened the door in the dark and tossed them to the side.

Suddenly, a chill went down her spine.

A female voice called out from the dark, "Slut, I thought it was about time to introduce myself."

Her backside hit the wall, and she didn't have time to blink. Sentences couldn't form, and then something sharp hit her head. Her vocal cords froze, and she couldn't call out. A split second later, spots appeared. Then she blacked out.

# Chapter 26

"Miami princess, wake up."

A cold female voice echoed in her ears. Erica wrinkled her face. Her head hurt, and her left arm didn't move. With effort, neither did her right. No. She blinked and opened her eyes. The dark room appeared like a basement or a bomb shelter. Slowly she tried to sit up, but instead, she struggled against ties that held her down. A light flickered above her head and shone down on her like a spotlight. She coughed and her eyes adjusted. Then she saw the woman in the portrait. "Who are you?"

The petite woman sat in a chair and stared at her. How had Tiffany dragged her here? She was tiny. Then Erica's scan of the dark room stopped at the silver cart in the corner. She trembled at the glasslike blue eyes that were filled with loathing. The portrait was a vain, selfish woman. The person in front of her had hate that filled every cell in her body. Erica shook her head. Then a huge, catlike grin appeared on the woman's face, and she crossed her legs.

Erica struggled for freedom, and the woman shrugged. "The bigger question, slut, is why you kept sleeping with my husband after I left you all those signs that he murdered people. A normal woman would want to be far away from him. What kind of woman falls for the criminal?"

Erica coughed again. Her throat was parched. "You're Tiffany?"

Without warning, she stood and loomed over Erica.

Erica struggled against her restraints. Tiffany smiled and fixed Erica's hair. "Guess even idiots have their moments. Why are you having sex with my loser of a husband?"

With pain, Erica forced her head up and lashed in her restraints. Nothing moved. All she had to rely on to get through this were her wits. Somehow, she'd untie the restraints.

Gabriel would eventually realize she was missing, but until then Erica had to hold out. With a fast prayer, she hoped he'd find her soon. He knew about the secret passages now. Then Erica raised her eyebrows and met the woman's gaze. She refused to let Tiffany bully her. "Gabriel and I aren't rational, but then, neither are you. You're supposed to be dead."

She bit at the air. Later, Erica would tremble. Right now, Tiffany hummed and checked on Erica's immobilized arm. "I'm not, but you will be soon."

"Were you the one who left the articles for me to find?"

"I thought I told you that already? I wrote them. I couldn't believe the online following I had as that author. But that's a different story. Are you not paying attention?" Tiffany's eyes widened. "Yes, I left all the clues. You were supposed to be scared of Gabriel."

The clues made sense now. Erica swallowed. She should always listen to her heart. "The diaries too?"

Tiffany's smile grew. "Gabriel is the villain in the story. No sane woman would ever fall into his bed."

Ah. Erica's mouth opened, and before she could stop herself, she stated her opinion: "Our definitions of sane are different."

Tiffany's face froze. "Excuse me?"

Erica tried her legs, but she couldn't move them either. Her gaze never left Tiffany. She answered, "Gabriel is a handsome man. Even you thought so."

She saw the blank stare Tiffany gave her. Erica blinked, as she didn't want to see crazy in the other woman's eyes. "You've not met his brother."

Still? She hadn't seen the man in years. He could have eaten lots of junk food for therapy. Erica swallowed. "Gabriel is the sexiest man I ever met."

"You really are a foolish slut."

"Tiffany, my name is Erica."

Tiffany shook her head. "I was so close to finally winning. Gabriel believed he was half-crazy. This winter was supposed to be the end. He'd finally commit suicide, and I'd walk out of here as the innocent victim he had locked away."

A tug on her arms didn't work.

"No one would ever believe that. Raphael had the police listening to your confession."

With a demonic stare, Tiffany ran her hand down Erica's arm and shoulder. Erica winced from the touch. Tiffany explained, "Everyone would believe that. The entire town thinks him half-crazy, and he's been a loner for a long time. And I never confessed. People talk; and I was so close until you showed up unexpectedly."

Erica twisted her head. "My car crashed. I had no choice."

The cold blue eyes stared right into her again until Erica flinched. Tiffany fixed her hair. The police had questioned her in the past. Did Tiffany not think that clear? "You might have lived if you didn't have sex with Gabriel and convince him he's not crazy."

With her chin up, Erica opened her eyes. "He's not crazy. He suffers because of his past, but he's a good guy."

At least she held back a "crazy wife" comment.

A derisive sneer came out of Tiffany's mouth. "You only say that because of your chemical reaction to him went off the charts after sex."

Erica's eyes widened. "I say that because I'm falling in love with him."

"That's your final sin." Tiffany backed away, and Erica lost sight of her for a moment, until she came back into view. Tiffany had a half smile, and she squeezed a syringe.

Erica swallowed. "How will you win Raphael back after you kill me and Gabriel?"

"He'll believe Gabriel kidnapped me."

"You shot him."

"It was an accident."

"He's engaged to some other woman."

"That won't be a problem."

A drop of the poison dripped on Erica's arm, and her hands became fists. Tiffany leaned in and whispered, "Your left hand is already sterilized and immobilized. This will all be over soon."

"Wait, how have you lived down here on your own all this time?" Erica needed to keep the conversation going while Tiffany used an alcohol rub on her hands to wash.

"This was built as a bomb shelter for World War II. I've all the necessities. It's really quite spacious, with all the secret passages to the chalet."

Tiffany stepped back for a second, but kept that damn needle in her hand. Erica shook her head. "You're insane."

"Shh. It's almost over." Tiffany smiled, but kept a solemn face. She cleaned Erica's arm and searched for a vein.

"Why bother? Aren't you going to kill me?"

Tiffany's cold fingers slid on her arm. "For the police after they find your body. It has to look like an accident and that you weren't poisoned."

Erica tried to pull away, but couldn't. Tiffany told her, "I needed you to get him to talk about Raphael. It's why I waited so long to kill you. Now that I know he saved me that day..."

"He set you up, and you shot him."

Tiffany tilted her head. "I have my ways of influencing men."

"Anyone with a brain ought to see through you."

"Gabriel didn't." Tiffany laughed. "Your would-be hero fell for my acting, the same as every other man on the planet. Do you know how that happens?"

Erica shook her head. "I have no idea."

"I believe every time in my soul that this one guy will be different, he'll be a hero for me." Tiffany shrugged. "They never are."

Tiffany was insane. Erica kept her mouth shut.

Tiffany pushed the needle tip into her arm. Erica tried to kick, but couldn't. "I can put you and Gabriel out of your misery. No one can ever love Gabriel."

"What?"

She screamed. Tiffany's hand on the needle stilled. Why didn't she push the poison and be done? Why torture her now? Erica cringed.

A boom rang out.

The needle casing shattered, and the impact released the liquid on her arm. Then, as blood splattered on her face, Erica screamed.

Tiffany fell backward and clutched her stomach, like she'd been shot.

To breathe, Erica closed her eyes and counted to ten. She was still alive.

She shook her arm to get the needle tip out.

Erica opened her eyes and gazed at Gabriel. She smiled. He must have moved with the speed of light to pull the remains of the needle out of her arm. With her heart beating so fast, she almost didn't hear Tiffany's muffled scream.

In a split second, Gabriel unbuckled her arms from the restraints and kissed her forehead.

Erica tried to stop hyperventilating. The habit wasn't helpful.

Gabriel stepped back and found blankets, throwing them on her. He stepped over Tiffany. His gaze stayed on Erica. "You're not dying on me."

Erica sat up and checked her pulse. She'd be okay.

Tiffany screamed, "You made Raphael leave me. You don't deserve . . . happy . . . ever . . . after . . . with . . . your . . . slut . . ."

Erica squirmed to get free, and untied the ropes holding her legs. The knots were complicated.

She struggled. Gabriel froze and stared at Tiffany for a moment. Erica watched Gabriel. His shoulders were tense. Then he said a prayer, turned back to her, and kissed her shoulder. "I should have been here sooner."

"You were just in time."

Then she could breathe. Erica scanned the room. Gabriel did the same. "Tiffany's not here."

Erica swallowed. "I didn't hear her."

"I was focused on you." Gabriel stepped back. "Where did she go? She almost killed you."

Erica grumbled, then called out, "Don't stand there. Help me."

His brown eyes met hers; then he glanced at her arm. "You can't die on me."

"I've no intention of it." She checked her arm where the needle had gone in. She bled a little, but everything in her body worked.

She could make a fist.

He untied the ropes, and her raw skin chafed. As he checked her arm, she lifted it for him to search for the puncture. He kissed the exposed skin, and she told him, "I think I'm okay. I think you hit the vial the second before she could press down."

He gulped. "If I'd have been a moment later . . ."

His face went white.

She cupped his chin to get him to gaze at her. "Don't think about that. I'm okay. You saved me."

A second later, he met her gaze. "I thought she was dead."

"She is here." She stood and tested her ankles. "Help me stand up. We have to find her."

With a decisive move, he stepped back and didn't say a word. She couldn't let him leave with more guilt to rack his body. She reached out to his arm and tugged on him. "Let's go."

He helped her and stared at the ground. She tugged on his arm, but he didn't move. "We should get you to safety first. I won't let her hurt you."

She flexed her arm to check that it was fine. She felt okay. "You're the crack shot in this duo. I'll do whatever you say."

He clutched his gun, but said nothing.

She placed her hand on his heart and pressed into him. "What's your plan?"

Tension came out of his shoulders with every millisecond she stepped closer to him. He hugged her and then kissed her ear. Soon she relaxed. Strength grew throughout her body, and her spine pumped adrenaline throughout her.

"You're fine. Let's get you to my room. I keep my gun locker there, and if we secure the apartment area, then she can't get in."

"I'll help search every wall for secret passages." She hugged him and rubbed his back. "Where are we?"

Without letting her go, he answered, "In a basement I've never seen. You found her hidden passageways. I searched through the secret halls."

"At least now we know she's here."

"I knew the story had a major hole in it, but I never found her."

They walked down the dusty passageway together. Her body was warm and soft again next to his. She gave a small smile. "How did you find me?"

He took her hand and traced her arm. "Your pants were on the ground, and you weren't in your room. My heart froze. I feared I'd lose you too."

His name fit him. He truly was her angel. She went to her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "You saved me."

He kept her enveloped in his warm embrace as he led her out. "Let's get you out of here. I have a plan, Snowflake."

She stepped with him. "So I'm dating a married man."

"Yeah." His face went white again, and she couldn't let him pull away.

"In this case, I'm sure it's forgivable. She is hell-bent on killing you." As she inched closer, she let him grip her hip. "She can't hurt you anymore, now that we know the truth."

He shook his head and opened the door back to the house. He gazed around the room, then held out his hand to help her. "Wrong person, Erica. I don't care about myself. I can't lose you."

With a strong hand, he led her away from the rooms he worked on and back to the living quarters.

Her heartbeat grew louder in her ears as she followed.

The man's white pallor wasn't good for him, and she refused to let him go back to the basement tonight.

The second they made it back to the apartment, he stopped expressing anything. Even silence made her upset for him.

His heavy footsteps in the kitchen area echoed in her ears. She walked toward the refrigerator, and she smiled. "I feel better here."

He stood in the hall by their bedrooms. "Let's get supplies and get to my bedroom. I have to ensure the guns are stored and still in the safe."

Without a question, she took his hand and didn't stop walking with him. She followed, and he led her straight into the bathroom. He called out, "Lock the door and let's check the walls here first."

She nodded, then banged on the wall.

He opened the safe, and she froze. He had at least four guns, some knives, and some other gadgets. He picked something up and said, "Hold this."

She shook her head and shivered a bit as she picked up the strange thing that looked like a gun but had two hooks. "What is it?"

His eyebrows lifted. "It's a Taser—unless you know how to shoot?"

"I don't. Why do you keep these here?"

"I was in the military." His gaze bored into hers. "I might need to hunt. It's me against the elements up here."

She nodded. Now was not the time for questions. She needed to organize the list of what to say in her mind first. So she studied the Taser in her hand. "How does this work?"

He pocketed some bullets, locked up the safe, and came over to her. He directed her hands, then said, "Hit that last button in the direction of Tiffany if she comes close. She'll be knocked out."

"But not dead?"

"No." He crossed his arms. "Let's finish checking the walls. I want to leave you in a safe place."

Her entire body stilled. "What?"

His jaw set. "I intend to find Tiffany. I can't let her hurt you."

She placed her hand on her hip. "You are not leaving me here to worry. We're going together."

He stiffened. "Someone needs to watch the guns."

"Change the password and don't say it out loud." She turned toward the walls. "I'll make sure no one sees you. Tiffany wants us both dead. If we separate, we would give her the opportunity to divide and conquer."

"Tiffany is pretty good with a gun." He closed his eyes and seemed to pray for a moment. "If we find her, you need to hide."

She gulped and realized she'd won this argument. Her heart pounded in her chest.

Whatever happened, she'd stick to his side like glue. It was the best plan.

# Chapter 27

Erica tried to catch her breath. Gabriel and she had been collecting his tools to stop Tiffany from getting them half the night. No noises other than the scrape of metal against the wooden floors reverberated in the air. Erica closed her eyes for a minute now and yawned. "Are we almost done? I'm exhausted."

In the adjacent room that was under heavy reconstruction, Gabriel made noise as he picked up another big machine. Tiffany might use anything to kill them. Gabriel rolled it toward Erica. The noise in the air made her think he hadn't heard her. She stiffened and stood guard at the door. His callused hands brushed past her the second he lifted the machine into its storage place. She sighed. Most of the night had been spent this way. She gazed past his shoulder to see this machine. He loaded a table with a round cutting thing. She held back her yawn. "Gabriel, she's shot. She's weak. I doubt she can lift that. I don't know how we didn't find a trail of blood."

Gabriel shook his head. "She's dangerous and smart, Erica. If we stop, I'm afraid she'll have a gun and shoot you."

Erica was so numb. She shook her head. "If she has a gun, then why didn't she shoot you years ago? And what about the gun in the secret room?"

"I locked it up with the others." He swallowed. "She could have another."

"She's crazy."

"Tiffany has never been rational."

He walked back to the other room. Erica rolled her shoulders to stay awake. Gabriel walked back toward the closet with another sawlike thing that could be used to maim or kill. "She's been in my walls planning my demise for years."

Erica rubbed her arms, as if that would chase away the coldness inside her body. "Where did she get the drugs?"

He shook his head and walked back out to get more tools. "I'm not a psychic. I've no idea."

"What's your plan, then?"

"No. Don't speak here."

She stood straighter. "She could hear us talking."

"I'm more worried about her next plan. Our defenses are best in my room."

"We have time. She'll keep on the run until she heals herself."

"Why do you think she can do that?"

Erica shrugged. "She has drugs, so I'd guess she has medicine."

He stiffened. "I shot her in the stomach."

"We don't know if the bullet hit her or the vial." She swayed on her feet, then steadied herself.

"Are you okay? I was worried about you in the basement, and you're my primary concern now."

Maybe he was right. He knew how to shoot, but Erica refused to take any chances. "You saved me again, Gabriel."

He shook his head. "We need to finish locking everything up."

A thump of something hit the floor in the distance. They both stopped.

He stared down the hall. "Let's set up a barricade in my room for you to get some sleep."

"Us." She crossed her arms. "You need sleep."

"I'm not tired." He carried what looked like a gun for nails and placed it in his tool locker. She kept watch. He then brushed his hand on her shoulder, and she turned to him. "You can rest. You've been through a lot."

"I can't sleep, not with your wife out to kill me."

He nodded. "How's your shoulder?"

"Almost healed." She'd not deny how she felt. "I'm numb right now more than anything else. It's not every day someone tries to kill me."

He shrugged. "It's been my every day for years, it seems. Guess I'm used to it." He walked back to the other room. His voice echoed in the hall. "I'm almost done. I wish I put things away instead of leaving things out, but we can't let Tiffany use anything else of mine to hurt you."

Erica stiffened. "She'll frame you."

Gabriel met her gaze. "I wasn't thinking about that."

She reached out to massage his shoulder. "Gabriel, we'll be okay."

"I don't have your optimism and determination, Snowflake."

"I have enough for both of us."

He said nothing else.

Another question popped in her head, and the words fell out of her mouth without a filter. "Why did you marry Tiffany? Didn't you know better?"

He ran his hands through his hair. "I was leaving for war."

"That's not an answer."

He rocked on his feet. "I knew her for a month before my departure date."

"What?"

"Let me finish." He crossed his arms. "I needed a reason to come home after going to war. I'm not like most Marines who live for their work. I joined, and my parents were upset that I would go to war. My world spun, so I thought if I married Tiffany, I'd have a reason to come back home."

She reached out and massaged his arm. He uncrossed his arms. What could she say to him to help? No words surfaced, so she stood on her tiptoes and intended to kiss his cheek. He turned, and her lips met his. He tasted sweet.

"Tiffany said her plan was to make you think yourself insane." Erica could not guess what the next tool might be used for. She stayed on topic. "Were you going insane before I arrived?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. I wasn't feeling good about anything. I had no intention of suicide, if that's the question."

"Good. You shouldn't be here alone, like you were."

His smoldering eyes gazed into hers and the coldness dissipated. "You brought me back to life."

She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "Likewise. I wasn't living much of a life. Then I was stuck here with you and saw what this life can be. In the past, the days rolled by, but it wasn't my life."

He turned and took her hand. He said nothing.

She swallowed. "You're important to me."

"You're the most precious gift in the world."

The clank of something metallic pierced the air, and she dove into his arms. He brushed her hair, and she shivered a bit. He whispered, "She's making noise to frighten us. We've moved what's left of the tools. I need you to turn and head back into our apartment. I'll lock this up."

"No." She shook again. "We go together. I don't want to be by myself. Whatever happens happens to both of us."

"Erica . . ."

She squeezed his waist more and he stopped talking. She assumed he nodded. His head moved, but she didn't gaze up. She stepped back to let him lock the closet.

The rustle of the wind outside the window sent a chill in the air. Gabriel took her hand in his, and she felt safe. Despite the danger, Erica's entire body hummed in excitement to follow him.

They walked back into the apartment, but the tingles on her neck grew. Erica turned around and saw the lights flicker in the library. She squeezed Gabriel's arm and he followed her lead. As they neared the door, she fell back behind his shoulder. "We're not alone."

Gabriel reached behind his back for his gun, and kept his eyes on the library door as he sought out his target. She took his hand. He whispered his order: "Go to my room."

"No."

He shook his head, and clicked something on his gun. "Stay behind the wall. Stay safe."

"Kiss me."

He stopped.

She stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips into his. His lips were small and withdrawn at first. Then he wrapped his arms around her. She felt the cool steel of the gun on her waist, but she deepened their kiss. His lips sent her entire body into overdrive. This would not be the last time. She'd not let anything happen to him.

He unwrapped his arms and she stepped back behind the wall. He rearmed his gun and stiffened his entire body, ready for a tight. She nodded at him and clutched her Taser.

In silence, he slid the door open. Then he cleared his throat. "Tiffany, this is over now."

He pointed Erica to go back down the hall. Erica stood behind him and refused to move.

"You shot me." Tiffany's voice was almost like a melody. "You loved me once, Gabriel."

Shouldn't she be in pain? Erica peeked out and saw that Tiffany held her stomach and rocked. In her other hand, she held a gun that pointed right toward Gabriel.

"I never knew you." Gabriel held his gun ready to shoot Tiffany. He shook his head. "You should be dead."

Tiffany's melodic voice held a tinge of sadness. "We've gone too far. I want this to end."

How was this woman still moving? Erica's own shoulder still stung from the wolves. Tiffany had been shot.

Gabriel held his hand on the safety of his gun. "What do you mean?"

Why? Erica dropped her Taser and reached to pick it back up. Gabriel tensed, and Erica heard a gun click like it was ready to fire.

"Slut." Tiffany shot at the wall. Erica cringed. She'd almost been killed. Her heart hammered in her chest. Tiffany called out, "No one wants you here."

Tiffany lifted her gun in the air, and Gabriel snapped his gun and made a noise. Tiffany turned back toward him. "Tiffany, stop."

Erica called out, "No one has to die."

Tiffany laughed. "You die first."

Gabriel grabbed Tiffany's gun. She fought back. Erica said a little prayer, then crawled into the room to get behind the couch. She had to help Gabriel.

A shot rang out in the air.

Tiffany continued to laugh. "Your little slut of a girlfriend won't see morning."

Erica stared down at the blood pooling at Tiffany's feet. She was hurt. Then Erica realized her shoulder burned again. Were the wolves back? She swallowed. Then she realized her shoulder was bleeding. Her head spun a bit. Had she been shot?

Tiffany held her gun higher. "Adultery is a sin."

Erica shook her head. "Says the saint?"

The pool of blood at Tiffany's feet grew thicker. She must still be bleeding.

Gabriel now held the gun he'd taken out of Tiffany's hand. Erica swallowed, unsure how he held the gun.

Erica sat down to stop the dizziness.

Tiffany leaped on Gabriel. Gabriel held his gun trained on her. Erica froze, unable to help. Then a second gunshot rang in the air.

She stared at Gabriel and Tiffany as they struggled for the gun. Who had been shot? The pool of blood grew larger, faster.

Tiffany moved like a huge cat. Or was that desperation and adrenaline that made her crazy? She jumped on a man that was taller than both of them, and his gaze never left the target.

A loud bang reverberated in the air. Gabriel threw Tiffany off him like she was a bug. Erica's gaze followed the thud to the gun on the floor near her.

Gabriel told Tiffany, "This is over."

"Hell, no. You don't get to win." Tiffany had jumped on Gabriel, despite the gun in his hand. Erica's shoulder burned. How did Tiffany find the energy to move? Erica curled behind the couch, but clutched the Taser.

Gabriel threw Tiffany off him again. Erica then spotted a knife in Tiffany's hand. She must have grabbed it from Gabriel's waist. He still held his gun on her.

Erica swallowed. Gabriel might need to shoot his wife. No. Erica inhaled. He'd been through so much. She'd help, if she could. She crawled over to the gun and picked it up with both hands.

Neither of them came at her, as they were focused on each other.

From behind the couch, Erica peeked her head up and called out, "No more. Tiffany, there is no way to win."

Tiffany jumped, catlike, and flew toward Erica. Gabriel shot his gun.

Erica screamed. Blood rained down all over her. Tiffany was bleeding badly. Why didn't she just die like they did in movies? Erica held the gun, but Tiffany scratched at it.

Gabriel's footsteps reverberated in the air. He was close.

Erica swallowed, then threw the gun toward him. Tiffany scratched at her arm and shoulder. The pain shot raced through her, but she clutched the Taser then, without another thought, shot Tiffany with the two electric circuits.

Tiffany screamed and shook in the air.

Erica massaged her shoulder and wiped the blood off her face.

Tiffany fell to the floor in convulsions.

Gabriel ran over to the pair of them and grabbed Erica. Her arms wrapped around his and the Taser thumped back on the floor.

Tiffany stared at both of them. "I never lose."

"You do this time." Erica shook her head, then buried it in Gabriel's neck. Gabriel brushed her back.

A thud of a body hitting the floor echoed throughout the house, and the sound carried on the wind.

Gabriel let Erica go.

She opened her eyes a moment later and stared at him as he stood over Tiffany's lifeless body.

"She can't hurt us anymore."

Erica crossed her arms. "Are you sure she's dead?"

Gabriel knelt next to Tiffany and unbuttoned her shirt. A gauze pad covered her stomach. "She's lost too much blood."

Erica stood over him. "Check her for her wounds. I don't want any more tricks."

Gabriel nodded as he stared at Tiffany's belly. He tore off her gauze pad to see the bullet wound. Erica stared at her white face and hollow eyes. How had she lived through this?

Gabriel stood up and took Erica's hand. "Erica, it's over."

She gazed up into his eyes. They were free. She swallowed, wiped more blood out of her eyes, and without another thought, kissed his cheek.

# Chapter 28

"You look horrible." Erica stared at Gabriel with his grimy hands. Last night, they'd both washed off the blood. This morning he sported the red face of someone who had spent the night in the frigid cold. His eyes were almost dead. Then he shivered. She sat up from bed. "Where were you? I spent half the night wondering if you were coming back."

He leaned down toward his feet and untied his boots. "After I tended to your wounds, I thought you'd sleep the night."

She scooted closer to the edge of the bed. In the corner of her eye, she glanced at the window. The blackness told her it was still the middle of the night. She waited until he returned her gaze and told him, "I woke up and you weren't here."

"I couldn't sleep."

He kicked off his shoes.

She blinked and waited for him to say more. He kept silent. "And?"

"Tiffany's body was lying in the library." He closed his eyes, looking haunted. "We couldn't leave her there."

"We said we'd bury her in the morning."

He shook his head. "I should have buried her before. I made sure I did it now."

Last night neither of them knew where to hold her body until spring arrived. Erica had collapsed in his arms, and he had told her to not worry. She swallowed, then met his gaze. "How?"

He unzipped his jacket and removed his hat. "I have a snow blower, torches, and a plow."

She covered her mouth with her fingers. "You went outside."

"She was lying on the floor of the house." He opened his bloodshot eyes. "She is dead and buried."

"You look like hell." He must be exhausted. She massaged his shoulders. "You need sleep."

He unzipped his snow pants. She caught a glimpse of his jeans. "Are you okay?"

Her hands brushed her sides. He slipped out of his outside layer. She then stared at his biceps and sheer muscular strength. She swallowed, then glanced at her shoulder. It burned again. "Yeah. I think so. Do you think I'll have a scar?"

He nodded. "Probably."

Her mouth fell open. "What?"

He sat next to her on the bed. Then he checked the gauze he had placed on her shoulder. "I'm not a doctor. The bullet grazed your shoulder, or I'd have buried you both."

His fingers were icy cold. The man's white pallor wasn't good for him, and she refused to leave him alone, not right now. He spent the night in solitude. She had slept a little.

Without a question, she took his hand and didn't stop walking with him. He followed, and she led him straight into the bathroom. With force, she twisted on the shower, and she pushed his shirt off his chest. He lifted his massive arms and let her slide the shirt off.

"I can't have sex right now," he mumbled.

"Of course." She helped him out of his jeans. "That's not what I want right now. We're getting you in the shower."

He stepped up and helped her undress him. "Why? I'm too cold."

"The water will be warm." With precise movements, she checked the temperature of the water, kissed his cheek, and undid her shirt. He didn't struggle. She pushed him into the shower. "Because the water's clean and pure. You saved my life, so stop feeling guilty. We're taking this shower."

Without any further argument, he stepped out of his pants and followed her direction.

The water could wash his skin and, hopefully, help cleanse his sorrow. Gabriel was her hero, and deserved far better than he'd received. Tiffany was dead now. Now she could take care of him, like he had watched out for her.

A few minutes later, she led him to the bed and changed him into clean clothes. He didn't argue. Once his head hit the pillow, his eyes closed. She massaged his scalp until she was sure he was asleep.

She couldn't sleep. Not at all. Not now. He took care of everything tonight. So she marched herself toward the kitchen.

A good meal cured people. Everything she touched had the energy of her love. Gabriel's nightmare was over, and so was hers. They were alive. She'd make a grand dinner.

The hallway was silent now, except for the icy rain. Out of habit, Erica rubbed her arms and listened. No tingles inched their way up her spine anymore. Near the kitchen, she detoured back into Gabriel's library. Perhaps she should clean up the remains. Cleanliness would help everything in the morning. She inhaled, held her breath, and opened the door.

Everything was in order. No sign of last night's struggle remained. Gabriel must have done this too.

She exhaled and shook her head.

Gabriel had taken care of the details. He had shot Tiffany. She slowed her death, but she knew she'd die. At least she hadn't won.

Erica rubbed her arms and checked her bandage. The whiteness of the gauze in the mirror struck her as strange. Shouldn't there be more blood?

She swallowed, then went to work. He loved a lamb roast. So tonight, they'd eat that. She'd prepare a wholesome salad. What should she make for dessert? Last night Gabriel had put her to bed and taken care of the details. Today it was her turn. She'd take care of him. He had enjoyed her cupcakes.

The wolves howled outside the windows and Erica smiled. The animals would get no cupcakes and they weren't scary anymore.

They were free.

She set to work and made everything ready for a feast. Cupcakes with buttercream frosting would be the best treat.

* * *

A few hours later, Gabriel came out of the room in his dark blue jeans and a simple formfitting gray T-shirt. She had never seen him with such lightness in his every step as he came toward her in the kitchen.

He kissed her cheek then stared at the table. His gaze stayed on the elegant cupcakes. "What are we celebrating?"

"Us." She smiled and walked toward the champagne. The roast lamb was already on the table. "I found this in the kitchen you prepared for the staff. I figure we have so much to be thankful for."

"I don't deserve you."

"I'm one of a kind."

He reached out to her side. The electricity in the air fueled her. The sparks were undeniable. He tilted his head. "Let's check your shoulder."

"No. It's fine." She shook her head. She had hoped for a kiss. "Tonight is about us and celebrating that we're together and alive."

He pressed her shoulder, and it stung a little. "You need to take it easy."

She nodded, but moved out of his reach. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Are we together?"

She stilled. Did he not want her? "Aren't we?"

Then he took a step toward her and took both of her hands in his. His hands were warm and inviting. Her heartbeat grew louder. His sexy brown eyes met her gaze, and he massaged her hands. "I'd love to spend the rest of my life with you, Erica. I love you far more than you know. You brought color into my life."

"I love you too." She stepped to the side and pointed to the table. She couldn't continue to stare into his eyes. Not right now. "Sit. Let's eat."

He crossed his arms. "No."

She stopped, then stared back at him. "No? What's wrong?"

He dropped his hands, and instead circled her waist. Her entire body was mushy, and her eyes watered. She sniffed to stop her tears. Then he pulled her closer to him. Her lips came inches from his, and she smiled. "Do you intend to kiss me?"

He nodded and smiled. "I want far more than that, but a kiss is a good start."

She wrapped her hands around his neck and laughed. "Deal."

His lips brushed against hers and everything but him became blurry. She pressed her mouth closer to his, and every cell in her body came alive.

They had so many issues, but with love, anything was possible.

Her heart soared as he deepened the kiss.

# Chapter 29

Erica woke up next to her man. Her stomach fluttered, and she stared out the window. The sunshine somehow made the day softer. She glanced at Gabriel, still asleep beside her. Her muscles relaxed. Today, everything was peaceful.

No more cleanup around Tiffany.

The house was quiet, and no noises echoed in the halls.

Erica laughed. They were here. Last night, all they did was hold each other. She snuggled into Gabriel's chest. His warmth kept her calm. Last night, the celebration of their love was overshadowed by the night and last night's events. He'd told her he loved her. She refused to think about the recent horror. All her life, she'd hoped to fall in love with a guy. Today was almost like a dream come true.

She kissed his neck, and his rough, unshaven cheek stimulated her skin. The tingle sent a tantalizingly sweet fervor through her body.

All that was missing was her mother and sister. The snow had to melt. Then she'd introduce Gabriel as the love of her life.

No more ghosts would haunt them. The bad parts were over. The good parts remained.

She couldn't sleep, and she settled into his shoulder. Her mother would approve of Gabriel.

She stilled until his hands squeezed hers a second. Her smile broke the moment he flipped over her and covered her entire body with his. Her shoulder hardly ached now, and she played with his short brown hair. She wrapped her legs around his spine, and he claimed her lips. A sweet moan of surrender and promise escaped her.

Slowly, she twisted her head and laughed. "Morning breath. I must smell terrible."

"You taste better than candy, Snowflake." Her mouth fell open, and he claimed another fiery kiss. Her body ached for him. His hard-on grew, and her legs spread to give him access to her secret entrance.

His tongue circled hers while her lower lips softened to open up to him. All sense of time disappeared with him.

To tease, he rolled his head back. Then his eyes met hers. She waited. He showed her his dimples, then squeezed one of the puckered pebbles on her breasts. Desire surged through her. His face rubbed hers, and her eyes rolled back in pleasure. He laughed, then whispered, "You're always ready, aren't you?"

"For you, yes." She arched her back to give him better access to her breasts.

"Erica, I . . ." Instead of finishing his sentence, he pushed his huge member into her.

Sated, she closed her eyes, and her body was warm and ready. She let the sensation take over. He pushed into her, and she lost thought of everything else. All she could do was cry out, "Gabriel. Oh, yes."

Emboldened, he used his fingers to find her clit as he continued to move in and out of her. Soon she became inarticulate waves of pleasure coursed through her.

Gabriel kept up a steady pace, then slowed to torture her. Then he sped up, matching her rhythm until she reached an explosive release.

"Ah." Was that all she could say? Words wouldn't form, and her spirit soared.

* * *

Her muscles quivered while she hugged him on top of her. He kissed her forehead, then rolled over next to her. She moved with him. "Gabriel, I've fallen in love with you."

His body tensed. She tugged the sheet over her. He loved her too. He had told her last night. What had changed?

She stayed silent.

He walked over to his dresser and opened a drawer. He found something. She tilted her head to see.

He came back to bed and tugged at the sheet to let it slip. She stared at his hand. What did he have? She dropped the sheet and scooted closer to him. He stroked her inflamed body, and she arched her back to give him better access.

Then he stopped. She sighed.

His captivating eyes met her gaze. He froze for a moment. She stared at him, unsure what was going on. Then he held out a ring. She covered her mouth.

He went down to one knee. Her gaze and heart followed him. He held out the diamond toward her. "Erica . . ."

She laughed. His voice squeaked.

He stopped. Then she stopped laughing. "I'm sorry. I'm happy."

He shook his head. "Let me ask."

She swallowed. "Okay."

He took a deep breath, then met her gaze. "I can't live without you anymore. When Tiffany almost killed you, I realized I didn't want to live without you."

"Don't mention her name right now."

He blushed. "Sorry."

She blinked. "No, continue."

"I love you more than I've loved anyone." He swallowed. "Will you marry me?"

Her huge smile grew, and she kissed his cheek. Then she took the ring. "Where did you get this?"

"It was my grandmother's. She promised me one day I'd want to marry someone much better suited to me." He slipped it on her finger. "She told me one day you'd show up in my life, even if I wasn't looking."

She laughed and stared at the diamond on her finger. "I think I like your grandmother."

He let out a sigh and matched her smile, though he had a pinch of sadness in him. "Good. She'd like you too. I hope to meet your mother."

Erica nodded. "She'll love you because I love you."

Gabriel stilled again. "I want to reach out to Raphael and apologize for being an unforgiving jerk."

"I'll stand beside you." She smiled and squeezed his hand. "I wish I knew how to get to my sister, Kimberly."

He held her close, and she settled on his lap. "Together, we'll handle everything."

She gazed up at him. "Finally, you are determined and optimistic."

"It took falling in love with you."

Gabriel Murphy was the sweetest man she'd ever met. Erica gazed at the ceiling. She fought for everything in her life, and now she had someone to share everything with.

# Chapter 30

Erica was surveying her third New York restaurant. Gabriel spoke with one of her staff and they both laughed. Erica's gaze narrowed as a customer caught her eye through the window. With a nod to her hostess, she hung up the phone. Now was the time. She took the spot next to the hostess. The customer walked in.

Gabriel sat back down with her mother. Their table was behind the false wall, so they didn't see this customer. Erica licked her lips. Her plan had almost worked.

Everything became easy the moment Raphael walked through the door.

The two men had similar looks, though her Gabriel was far sexier. The brown hair, broad shoulders, and dark eyes were the same, but he didn't have Gabriel's aura.

Erica tilted her head. She supposed that they could almost be twins.

Raphael came closer to the hostess, unaware of whom she was. Erica crossed her arms and clicked her heels on the marble floor. His surprised eyes stared up. "Can I help you?"

He nodded at her as he scanned the room. "I'm a little early for my reservation. But I am meeting my brother, Gabriel Murphy."

Gabriel stopped talking to her mother. They must have heard. Erica sucked in a breath. Gabriel needed to stay still. She hadn't told him her surprise. "He's here."

Raphael looked through the door. "Where?"

Erica stepped in front of him and placed her hand on her hip. "Only if you can answer a few questions from me."

His eyes narrowed on her, and she noticed the similar line down the middle of his forehead. Gabriel had that quirk every time she asked him a direct question too. "Who are you?"

With a tap of her shoe, she raised her eyebrows without an answer. Then she picked up the menu, shrugged, and held back her smile. "If you answer my questions correctly, you get to see Gabriel. If I don't like what you say, then you're out."

He took a step back and stared at her like she was strange. He had no idea about anything. Then he nodded. "Okay."

"Did you know Tiffany was alive?"

His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. "What do you mean alive? She's dead."

"No. She didn't die. Did you know?"

His face turned ashen. Then he placed his hand on his heart. He violently shook his head. "I never saw a body. I thought Gabriel took care of those details."

"She was alive all this time and intended to kill him."

"What?" Raphael's entire face fell. "I thought she was dead."

Now she could blink, and she nodded at him. "Well, that's one plus for you. She's dead now, and Gabriel is here. Everything's fine."

He swayed on his feet. "Where was she?"

Erica swiveled to stay in front of him so he didn't bypass her and go into the restaurant. "Still in the chalet, in the secret rooms."

Raphael dropped his hands to his sides. "Gabriel would never talk to me. I tried to tell him about that stupid room."

"Did you set out to have an affair and betray your family?"

Red-faced, he tugged at his ear and shook his head. "Lady, I don't feel comfortable talking about this with a total stranger. Who are you?"

"This is my new wife, and you are not touching this one." Gabriel came out from behind the hidden seats and hugged her waist.

With a smile, Erica answered fast, "Gabriel, he's not as hot as you, my love. Besides, no one is going to want me in a few months when I get rounder."

"Gabriel." Raphael stepped back and stared at how Gabriel held her close.

Her husband stared at his brother. Then he raised his hand and offered it to Raphael.

Raphael reached out and shook his hand.

Erica took her husband's free hand, placed it on her hip, and raised her eyes at his brother. "Well, let's sit. Eating together is a good way to smooth over any gaps."

Raphael's eyes never wandered from Gabriel. "What's your wife's name, and do our parents know?"

"Erica," Gabriel answered. He kept his arms around her. "Our parents met her yesterday."

Raphael's mouth fell open. "Only yesterday?"

"The snow took a while to melt."

Erica nodded. "We drove to the house in Connecticut on our way down."

Gabriel then continued, "We met Michaela in Boston and stayed a few days for her mother, Katherine, to fly up."

"Did she like you?"

Gabriel cocked his head to the side and Erica's mother gave him the thumbs up. His brother saw.

"We're going to stay in Miami for a few days for Gabriel to get to know my mother more after you both talk," Erica added, then squeezed her husband's hand. Her mother gave them all a knowing smile. They sat around the table, and Erica kept the conversation up. "Gabriel drove down the coast. He'll tell you that I'm not good at driving these roads up north."

Raphael refused to sit at the table she'd directed them to.

Gabriel asked, "Where's Eileen?"

Raphael inhaled and stared at everyone. His face went red, but he didn't say anything.

Her mother added, "Don't be shy. We're all going to be family. It's all right to talk about everything on your mind. I beat cancer because my daughter went missing, and I needed to get out of that hospital."

Raphael nodded. "Eileen married someone else."

Gabriel pointed to sit. "I am sorry."

"You should hate me."

Gabriel sighed. "I was so angry."

Raphael stared at the ground. "I should never have touched Tiffany. I don't know how it began, but you were my brother. There is no way to make up for that."

Kathy nodded at Erica. Erica nodded back, then stared at Gabriel.

Gabriel met Erica's eyes, and she smiled at her husband to encourage him. Forgiveness was important for him to let go of his past. Their gazes stayed on each other. He kept silent. So Erica answered, "Tiffany put drugs in your drinks. It's how she had her way with you, Raphael."

"What?" Raphael said.

"We found her diaries and her drug cabinets." Erica elbowed Gabriel to speak.

Gabriel's eyes brightened and he squeezed Erica's knee. Then he told his brother, "Tiffany set out to win a game. She did what she could, but I would like to bury the past and have my brother back."

"I'd like that too." Raphael's voice cracked. "I was wrong."

Gabriel nodded.

Kathy added, "I approve of men who have an open heart."

Erica smiled; then both men stared at the menus. Her mother kept smiling.

"Is that it? Get up and hug your brother."

Gabriel stood first. "Better get up, Raphael. Erica won't rest until she gets her way."

"I like your new wife." Raphael leaned closer to him.

"She takes after me," Kathy added. "My other daughter, Kimberly, is still out there. I wish I had both my girls back."

Raphael patted Gabriel on his back, and the men hugged. A second later, they separated and Gabriel pressed his lips together. "I trusted you."

Raphael looked stricken. Erica said, "Be nice."

Color returned to Gabriel's brother face before he told her, "I'm grateful. You brought my brother back. He's a lucky man."

Gabriel gave a bold wink at Erica. "That I am. I married a good woman, and I miss my brother."

Erica smiled when the men patted each other on the back.

Gabriel then winked at her mother and slipped Erica a piece of paper. Erica stared at them both, confused.

Her mother told her, "I can't type anymore. I need you to take care of this."

Erica scratched at her neck, then stared at the paper. Her sister's name was bold and clear.

Gabriel explained, "Your sister doesn't have a phone, or a permanent address. But she has run this website for years. This is her e-mail."

Kathy added, "Send her a wedding invitation."

Erica shook her head. "Mom, we're already married."

Gabriel squeezed her knee. "I'm game for a family wedding that brings everything to a close."

Erica swallowed. They'd be together for the rest of her life. A wedding with her family would be ideal. They could celebrate every day of their lives together. She might have crashed her car as a beginning, but now she had her happy-ever-after.

Somehow, she'd found a family again. Erica nodded. "I'll e-mail her an invitation."

_Thank you for reading._ **** I hope you enjoyed Gabriel and Erica as much as I did. The next book the the Frosted Game of Hearts series involves Erica's sister whose returning for the wedding though her plane crashes on an island, where she meets Raphael who saves her life, more than once. Order Hidden Raphael Now!

_Or_ you can go back and read about the people Roxy's family and what happens to her next when you start the Tempting series with Tempting Gabe.

And to find out about new books, sign up for my newsletter: <https://victoriapinder.com>

# Tempting Gabe
Please check out the entire The Hawke Family Fortune Series and get caught up.

The Hawke Fortune

Tempting Gabe

Tempting James

Tempting Conner

Tempting Harry

Tempting Navid

# Chapter 1

Megan's brother, Maddox, had her mother's ring and she wanted it back. The will left it to her. It was all she had left now. Megan Murdock brushed her dark brown hair behind her ears and straightened her shoulders that slumped from the weight of her large, heavy pocketbook. She closed her eyes, swayed on her feet as the palm trees swayed in the wind behind her. Lawyers hadn't helped her get the one thing she wanted to keep, forever.

Once she felt stable, she was ready.

She knocked on the door and crossed her arms. A few seconds later, her brother's voice pierced the air. "Megan, go away."

Normal people didn't talk to siblings through the intercom. She glanced at the door and wondered where the camera was while she crossed her arms. "I want Mom's ring, Maddox."

"I'll send it in the mail."

No. She refused to lose another day. Her mother had left everything to her brother, except the ring. On her hospital bed, their mother had said Megan was capable of taking care of herself. She had always wished her mother saw more than raw strength, but the promised ring meant she at least left her something personal that she had worn every day of her life. It had to mean she saw more in her. Megan knocked on his door again. "You haven't in the past month. I'm here to collect it."

"Go."

Her face felt hot as the hottest day in South Florida where the air itself felt like hot soup that covered the skin. Soon, she'd lose her cool. She pressed her feet into the cement ground through her high heels. "Open the door and give it to me. I'm tired of waiting."

"Are you alone?"

"Clearly." She turned so he could see beyond her and onto the street. This was insane, but again it seemed so was her brother, after the war. She pressed her hand to her temple. Somehow she had to get through to him. He needed help. She softened her voice. "Maddox, let me in."

"Okay fine." The jingle and click of metal knobs told her that her brother was working on his half a dozen locks. The door opened to darkness, but then she saw the brown eyes that almost glowed from the sun beaming in the door. He wiggled his finger and indicated that she should come in.

To get the ring, she followed. The second she was inside, he locked all six of his door locks. Once done, he pointed her toward the living room and a gray couch that had seen better decades. "Wait here and I'll find the ring."

"Thanks." She brushed the goosebumps off her bare arms and stared at the mess in the room. Maddox had papers everywhere and the dust that came from her just walking in told her that he hadn't cleaned in years.

He stormed down the hall and left her there. She refused to even touch that couch and moved toward the closest pile of papers.

The same man's face was on the first half a dozen articles. She peered closer and read Gable Hawke. Her mind clicked that the Hawke name had something to do with computers, but she wasn't a techie like her last boyfriend. Neither was her brother, for that matter. She walked toward a different pile but stopped when she coughed on dust.

At least her brother had made an appearance at the funeral, though he had only stayed for a half an hour and had jittered the entire time. Before he served overseas, Maddox never sent chills throughout her body.

She called out, "Mom would have been happy you came."

"I was always a disappointment."

* * *

Bored, she glanced at the papers on the coffee table. Again Gable Hawke's name was highlighted, as was information about his family. He had two sisters and it seemed his parents were close to dying from an assassination attempt. Her brother doodled stars all over the news clipping. The back of her neck grew cold. "Did you find the ring?"

"Almost."

Good. She needed to go. Then she opened the red folder next to the news articles. The folder was like one of the ones they had used in school years ago, but inside she saw his handwriting and a print-out of an almost dead couple. Her stomach churned as she picked it up and read closer. She stared so hard at the papers until the words blurred into black pools. This letter with her brother's name on it couldn't say that her brother had murdered the couple on their way to help at a soup kitchen.

No. This wasn't possible. Maddox wasn't that bad. He could have written a confession note for a number of reasons, right?

Beads of sweat grew on her forehead.

* * *

In her hands she held her brother's assassination plans. The drawings showed where he intended to stand, where the old couple went to buy Christmas presents and their route to deliver them to needy children at a shelter. Everything clicked in her head at once. The news article had said Mr. and Mrs. Hawke were hospitalized and in comas from gunshots near a homeless shelter and soup kitchen. Her heart raced.

Her brother had tried to murder innocent people. Her hands curled on the folder. All those years as a sniper in the Marines could mean he was interested in the murder that had his expertise written all over it. She stuffed it in her pocketbook and then wiped her sweaty palms on her yellow sundress. Perhaps outside, she'd read this differently, but right now her breaths became shorter. She edged to the door.

Something fell in the other room and it felt like her heart might stop. She called out, "She'd want you to see a doctor regularly, Maddox."

"Doctors can't help me."

Despite how she shivered inside, she remembered how she'd promised their mother she'd do what she could for Maddox. She licked her cold lips. "Is there anyone that can?"

"I think I put the ring in here. Give me a moment."

Right. The ring. Her hands shook and she clutched her bag. Perhaps the schematics were of a football game or anything else and that her mind made up all those conclusions as she glanced to her right and saw another picture of the Hawke family. "Who's Gable Hawke? That's an unusual name."

"He ruined my life."

The statement hung in the air. All she could think was that her brother had intended to harm them. The papers against her chest might as well be bricks. They weighted her to the floor and she couldn't move. She pushed her hair back again. Perhaps she should ask her brother, "How?"

"He and his crowd left me for dead."

"In the desert?" Footsteps echoed while he came closer to her. Bile filled her throat. Once she was home, she could look up what happened and perhaps, hopefully, her instincts were way off. As children, she'd never suspect her brother of murder, but the hollow ghost of a man that haunted this old house never felt like he was her brother. Course she hadn't seen much of him in years, but her instincts screamed it was possible that he was an assassin.

"Yeah," he called down the hall.

She stumbled backward closer to the door and knocked over a pile of papers. She knelt and picked them up to put them back. Even more pictures of Gable Hawke and his family. Her heart sped faster again. "A doctor would be..."

Her teeth chattered so much that she stopped talking and stared at her brother's outlines.

"I found the..."

"I knocked it over with my bag and I was putting your pile back together. She stood and willed her hands to not shake and she put them out palm up. "Do you have it?"

"Are you sure..." He scratched his head.

"You have the ring?" No. Every cell in her body screamed to run. If she did, he'd know for sure what she thought. Okay probably not, but he'd figure her out too fast. Her fingers began to curl as she waited. To pretend she wasn't affected, she tapped her shoe and glanced at him and her empty hand.

He dropped the diamond ring in, and she clutched it like it was a life preserver. Her breaths were still coming too short but she turned toward the door.

"Were you going through my papers?"

The image of being locked in a basement like those people in the last movie she'd seen ran through her mind. She shook her head and twisted the first lock. "I was looking for the ring. I want to go."

He put his hand on the lock and stared at her. "Megan, you're lying to me."

Coldness ate at her from her gut. The man staring at her wasn't her brother. Not anymore. She pushed her lips out. She had to get out of here. _Now_. In pretense, she shrugged. "I don't care what you think. I have the ring and now I have to go to work."

"Go." He unlocked the other five locks.

Her legs practically ran by themselves to her Mercedes. As she walked away, one by one she heard the multiple locks slip into place like they were bullets aimed at her chest. The sound made her jumpy, but she steeled herself. Her brother had locked himself and now the sunlight beamed over her head.

Inside her car, her fingers wrapped around the steering wheel and she held tight. Breathing was a challenge, but in the rearview mirror she glanced at her brother's house surrounded by the weeping trees. Her heart was practically frozen, but she turned the key and listened for the sound of the engine that sparked her car to life. Her foot pressed the pedal harder than normal and she drove fast to get away.

On her way to work at Morgan Enterprises, she picked up the phone. She needed to talk to someone, but there was no one to confide in about her brother. She told the phone, "I can't call Tess or any of my friends."

Then her phone said, "How may I help you?"

She laughed to herself and knew she looked foolish if anyone passed her, but she didn't care. Se parked in her spot in the employee parking lot. She stared at the faceless phone and realized it was the artificial intelligence, so she asked, "Who is Gable Hawke?"

"Here is what I found about Gable Hawke."

Information about the CEO of a computer tech firm filled her phone. She glanced at her pocketbook to check on her brother's confession letter. Her face felt cold, but she used her phone to research his parents' recent attempted murder and how the police had no suspects.

If she went upstairs, she'd sit at her desk and stare at her pocketbook.

Tires squealed past her and adrenaline rushed through her body. She grabbed her bag and dug in for the folder while she tried to shift into her seat like it might mask her. She looked around the lot and saw no one, so she read.

These were the schematics of an attempted hit and she reread the details about how the parents of Gable Hawke were practically executed. This wasn't an unknown assailant to her like the news report read. The boy who'd rescued frogs from the road after it rained so they wouldn't get run over by cars? Had he been so screwed up by what he'd seen in the war to commit such an atrocity? This was her brother's work. Why else would he have written such a letter and signed it? She swallowed.

If she didn't turn this in, she was now an accessory. Her heart slammed in her chest. She'd not go to prison, not for something her brother might have done. Her mother's words echoed in her brain to protect Maddox. In Florida, they had the death penalty. If she turned her brother in, she'd have to make a deal. She swallowed and tried to get a grip. She only had one hope and it was probably stupid. Her mind eased and started her car again until her courage grew and she told her phone. "I'll need driving directions to the Hawke Inc."

# Chapter 2

"Scarlett, James is going to protect you just as I asked Conner to watch out for Olivia." Gable answered his sister for the tenth time with the same sentence. His sister, Scarlett, lived up to her namesake. He stared out the window in the high-rise office building that overlooked both Biscayne Bay and the Intracoastal waterways. The expensive yachts looked like rowboats from his current window. He turned away from his black Italian marble desk and stared at the blue waters. "Mom and Dad would expect me to protect you."

He massaged his temples. After what had happened and with their parents in either a coma or fighting a raging infection, he'd like to think that Scarlett wouldn't mind extra security, but then his sister was beautiful, but never predictable.

He brushed against the ugly skin under his shirt and knew no one saw how damaged he was. Scarlett, Olivia, and his parents deserved to keep their bodies without scars.

Instead he heard the pout in her voice through the phone. "You're not hiring a bodyguard for yourself."

Something buzzed inside him and his skin felt like he was near static electricity. He ignored the instinct. "I have a security team and unlike you, I'm not trapezing around the globe."

"I'm not trapezing. That's a stupid word. I have a business meeting."

The light flashed on his desk that he had another call. He clutched his cell phone but stared at his office phone. "Hold on, my secretary is calling in."

"We're not done," Scarlett started before he cut her off with the mute button on his cell and placed it on his desk.

He put his secretary on speaker. "You have a visitor, sir. She's quite insistent that she speak only to you."

No urgent meeting came to mind, and his mind was blank. "Who is it?"

"A Miss Megan Murdock."

Murdock. Maddox Murdock had died. The image of standing near a blast site while Belle Jordan pulled Colt Collins out of the ditch as he tried and failed to grab Murdock replayed in his mind. Instead of pulling him to safety, his former friend was caught in enemy fire and had died a foot from him. His own skin burned from the heat while he fell backward. This time he recalled a gun pointed at him, but he blinked and that memory disappeared. He'd probably imagined it anyhow.

His secretary coughed, which brought him back to the here and now. He sat stiff in his chair until he patted his side where the burn scars were. "Who is she?"

"An accountant at Morgan Enterprises."

His heart began to beat again while he took a deep breath. "I don't want to see a banker today. I'm not interested in whatever stock option they want to sell me."

A fast discussion between women echoed through the phone. Then his secretary said, "She says that you'll want to see her."

Perhaps she was Murdock's family and she wasn't here to sell him something. If this was because of what happened years ago, then he should at least listen. He closed the files on his desk. "She's that insistent?"

"Yes."

"Send her in." No memory of a memorial flashed in his mind as he stood to greet the woman. If he had, he must have skipped out when he returned and threw himself into work to build his company into a technology giant and tried to bury his memories.

A young woman with dark hair and a body that curved in all the right places walked in. He leaned on his desk and picked up some papers, in case he had any evidence of how turned on he'd become. "How may I help you?"

She walked and stepped right up to stand in front of him. The air smelled of rose petals. "Are you Gable Hawke?"

"Yes." She held out her hand to shake. Her palms were cold in his warm and strong grip. He narrowed his gaze. "Are you related to Maddox Murdock?"

She stopped shaking his hand and froze for a second. Her face was white, like she was hurt or scared of him. He narrowed his gaze and brushed his hand on her arm, to sooth whatever was wrong, and she finished shaking his hand and nodded. "He's my brother. How do you know him?"

He stood and directed her to business chairs closer to a side office, where they might talk easier. "We served together. He died."

She sat but clutched her bag in front of her like it was a shield. "He didn't die. He was taken captured."

That made no sense. He pulled the chair closer to her. "I'm sorry. Repeat?"

He placed his hand on her knee and she practically jumped out of skin while she pushed him off. "Don't."

"Don't what?" He tucked his hand back onto his own seat and his heartbeat grew faster. "I'd never do anything..."

She lifted her chin though she trembled. "I want you to call the police and tell them I asked you to call while I have information on your parents' case."

There was no way he was attracted to his parents' potential killer. His eyes widened. "You do."

She hugged her bag as she sucked in her breath. "Yes."

Unless she was packing in that bag, he wasn't afraid of her. Though he stood, walked to his desk, and called the detective that was working his parent's case. A few seconds later, he returned to the chair across from her. "Done. Why are you here?"

She nodded and rifled through her pocketbook. He stilled until he saw the red folder in her hands. Despite how her legs trembled, she leaned forward and placed her bag beside her. "I wanted to meet with you to ask for mercy."

His body filled with ice that seemed to rush through his veins. "Your brother is involved then?"

She winced. "How did you guess?"

"Your name." He scooted away and wished he had called security. "You're here."

Her fingers trembled while she held out the folder, like she wanted him to have it. "I went to his house this morning to retrieve something of my mother's and I found this."

No. Despite how he wanted to flip open the pages and find how and why Maddox attempted to kill his parents, he made his hands into fists. He shook his head and tucked his hands to his sides. "Your fingerprints are all over that. I'm not touching anything."

"Fair enough." She swallowed, gripped the folder until her hands loosened and she opened the main page with Maddox's signature on the bottom. "This is his confession letter and this is a schematic which showed how my brother planned everything. I found it when I searched his house for my ring." A tear slid down her face. "I know you must have loved your parents..."

"Don't. They aren't dead yet." He dropped his hands to his sides as his every focus was on her tears. If Maddox had tried to kill his parents, this was all related to him and what happened overseas. The newspapers had no idea the exact state of his parents was and he'd keep that information to himself until they arrested whoever had shot at them.

She folded the papers back. "Don't what?"

"Don't ask me to forgive this." He leaned forward and pressed his palms together like he was in prayer. "I'm not that nice."

Her face went white as she lowered her gaze and pressed her knees together. "I'm not. I'm asking for your help."

No. If Maddox was involved whatever resulted next would be what he deserved. He sat backward in his chair while the memory of his parents and the police calling him to identify them replayed in his mind. The image of the gun also floated in his mind again, but he ignored it. He shook his head. "I can't be involved."

She reached out and pressed her hand to his knee. "My brother is sick. He needs to go to a hospital, not death row."

And his parents deserved to be on vacation and enjoying that cruise they had planned, not fighting for their lives in ICU. Her fingers on his body, even through the black wool suit pants, set off a spark that shattered the ice in him. "I'm not making a deal with you."

She let go and kept her head down. "You called the police as I asked?"

"Yes."

Of course he did. He was sane. She hugged her waist and knew her face was white because she felt cold. "I've said what I needed to say. I'm really sorry for what my brother did to your parents."

"Don't pretend you care about my feelings."

She gazed at him while her cheeks had a tinge of red that matched the folder she held. Without waiting another second, she pushed her hair behind her ear. "I don't know you or anything about you, Gable Hawke. What I do know is that I had nothing to do with this and only found out before work today."

If that was true, she had more to worry about than she realized. His eyebrows narrowed. "It's ten o'clock, well past work time beginning."

She let out a soft sigh and relaxed in the chair. "It's been a long morning."

This time he leaned forward and touched her arm. Her skin was silky soft and smooth. Instinct took over that made him want to hold her and keep her close, though for all he knew, everything she did or said might be a lie. His heart drummed in his chest. "Why did you go to your brother's house today then if you never knew?"

She put her hand on his and held his fingers while she met his gaze and said, "I've called him every day since our mother died for the one thing I was left in the will. I warned him in my last call and email that I was coming over. There were papers everywhere with your name on it. I think he blamed you for something that happened at war."

If Maddox was alive, questions swam inside his mind because his own memory of that day in the desert was faulty. He had been distracted with Belle screaming as she dragged Colt out. The memory and the smells of that moment burned through his skin like he was near the firestorm again. He pressed his shoes together and stared into the brown eyes of an angel. "You do realize you can go to jail yourself for visiting me today."

Her free hand went up her chest and neck and covered her lips while her eyes widened. "Why? I'm not threatening you."

His fingers curled into hers and he wanted to take a chance. What if she told the truth? What if all of this was real? If anything happened to her, it would haunt him that he hadn't done more. He waited for her to drop her hand from her face and find her composure. As she took her hand back and broke their connection, he straightened his tie. She stood, so he chased her and asked, "Megan?"

She blinked and stilled. "Yes?"

"When was the last time you saw your brother then?"

"He showed up at our mother's funeral last month. Before that was when I went to the airport with my mom to pick him up. He walked away from medical help when he was recovered from where he was tortured."

The bomb that exploded in that moment had caused every bad thing in his life, but the smell of roses kept his mind clearer. "That's partly my fault for leaving him."

She packed the folder in her pocketbook and turned like she was going to leave. "I'm sure you did what you could. I can't imagine you'd just ignore calls of help."

"I want to make a deal with you."

They stood fast, and she turned on her high heels and stared at him with her lips parted. "You do?"

If there was one thing his father, the lawyer, would say was 'don't treat the innocent like the guilty.' His father wasn't around to ask for advice, but the words haunted him. He stared into the brown eyes of Megan and knew she was innocent. "You trusted me to come here."

She lowered her lashes. "Yeah."

He took a step closer. "And I remember every detail of that day in the desert."

With a soft breath, her shoulders slumped. "Then you know more about his motives than I do."

His sisters had James and Conner. If Megan walked out the door after she spoke with the police, she helped him but put her own life in danger. Nothing about her seemed like a setup, but he'd be stupid not to check out her background. "We meet the police together and after you'll stay with me until your brother's in jail and can't hurt you."

She stepped backward but never turned. Her entire body trembled. "He won't hurt me."

"You believe he attempted to murder my parents outside of a homeless shelter but that he won't come after you?"

Her face was white and her teeth chattered. "He's my brother."

"He's been tortured. There is no telling how he will act toward you."

Despite her words, she understood. He came closer and placed his hand on her shoulder. He'd not let her shake like that, when he could hold her.

Her hands trembled as she reached out and grabbed his arms. "I was so scared today. I have no idea what I'm doing. Maybe this isn't the best idea, but I would like to sleep knowing someone is watching my back tonight other than my cat, Anakin Skywalker."

"Yes, your cat will be fine for the night." Her fingers locked on him made him sure. "You are way more reasonable than my sister. Until your brother is in jail, you're with me."

"Thank you." She clung to him and in that moment, nothing else mattered. He'd help her and bring his parents' attempted killer to justice. With evidence, this might all be over today.

# Chapter 3

Her entire body felt rattled and empty while the door closed. Megan glanced out the window at the moon and darkness except for the distant cruise ships in the ocean. She slumped in the chair she'd been sitting in for hours and let her head drop backward. "I half believed they were going to arrest. What time is it?"

"It's after nine."

"They questioned me for eleven hours?" That was later than she imagined. Her lips were parched but she hardly had time to sip water. She glanced up and saw how his blue eyes sparkled as he stared at her. She grabbed onto the arms of the seat and at the same time her face felt hot so she turned away.

He stood and walked in front of her. Then he offered his hand and asked, "Yeah, they did. Are you hungry?"

The muscles on his body made him swoon-worthy as did that thick blond hair of his. She blinked because there was no way her mind should go down that route, but she took his hand and stood to join him. His skin was warm, but she tried to pretend indifference so she took her pocketbook and smoothed over her wrinkled work skirt. "I don't think I should go to a restaurant, not if the police are en route to arrest my brother. I should probably go find a rock and hide there."

He offered his arm. "Then let's go home."

Home wasn't something she'd had in years. Her apartment was suitable, but not a home. She blinked and let the thought dissipate as she took his arm. "You don't have to protect me. I appreciate the offer and how you stayed with me today. That should be enough for any man."

He petted her hand like she needed soothing. "Your brother is on the loose. I'm not leaving you alone."

No. He should not be that nice to her. She reached into her bag and took out her mother's ring to hold in her palm. He opened the door for her and she met his stare while she passed him. "How do you know I'm not some criminal mastermind?"

The halls were barren so his employees must have gone home for the night, including his secretary. His eyebrow shot up. "Then how did you get a 'C' in sociology?"

He hit the elevator button and dropped her arm as her gaze narrowed. "How thorough of a background check did you do on me?"

The ding echoed through and they walked into the empty elevator. "Enough to know you broke up with your boyfriend, Emmanual, three months ago because, according to his Facebook posts, you're a cold fish."

The doors closed while her hand went to her heart. "What? That's not true!"

The moment he placed his hand on the small of her back, her body zipped with new life. She steadied her feet. "Yeah, he wasn't worthy of you. It was his status when he posted he was single."

She turned closer to him and smelled the woodsy aftershave that made her mouth water to taste him. She'd never do that, but she lowered her gaze. "I hate the Internet sometimes."

The elevator slowed and dinged so they were silent until the doors opened. He led her toward a different door. "You're into clickbait quizzes when you're home and alone."

"It's meaningless." She shrugged. "What about my car?"

"I'll have someone bring it to you." He continued to lead her. She hesitated until he asked, "What are you in the mood to eat?"

Near the new door, she stopped walking entirely. "Wait, where are we going then?"

He brushed his chin as he stayed close. "To my house. It's the only place I know with enough security that you'll be able to sleep and know you'll wake up the next morning."

The sense of home hit her hard. She swallowed and the taste of it was in her mouth. She nodded and reached out for his arm. "Okay, just for tonight, until the police arrest my brother and then I can go back to work and live my life again."

He led her to his silver Mercedes. "So as I asked, dinner?"

Home was one thing. A restaurant full of people would make her cringe every time someone picked up a fork and made a noise. Her lips pressed together while he opened her door and let her slip inside. Once he was in the driver's seat, she asked, "Are we ordering in?"

"I don't have a cook, only a maid service."

Her mother had been a cleaning lady and her skin felt like razor blades for a second. She lifted her chin and refused to think about the past. "Let's go with sushi."

Her nose turned and his face almost went green. "Ugh. Anything else."

"See, we'd never get along for more than a day. What kind of food do you eat?"

While he drove toward Collins Avenue and the Atlantic Ocean she wasn't surprised. Billionaires littered the seaboard coast while the rest of them lived in nice communities much farther west. With this in mind, she had no idea about the restaurants in whatever part he lived in. He'd have to choose.

"Usually I'm happy with a grilled steak."

That wasn't an option for her. She shook her head. "Your poor arteries. I'm sure you can find a grilled chicken with spinach and feta wrap."

While he turned and she saw the palm trees that covered the beach between the sky rises, he shook his head. "You are complicated."

Grilled chicken needed flavor too. Her hand went over her lap at the same time her stomach growled. "Being healthy isn't complicated."

As he drove, he rolled his eyes. "Now you sound like my sister."

"Good to know your relatives are smart." She winked and stared at the Porsche building. She heard it was designed by an Italian designer who was flown in just for the marble installation. The owner drove the car in and, somehow, it was magically transported with some modern technology to the floor the owner lived. He drove into the building and right into a spot.

He helped her get out of the car. "Most women agree with everything I say."

This time she squeezed his arm before she let him go while she made a _tsk_ sound. "Must be nice to surround yourself with 'yes' men."

His phone went off as he guided her into the building and toward the elevator. "There is news coming in about your brother."

Her heart pounded while her face felt hot. Maddox must be in the process of being arrested now. Her hands clenched because she imagined her brother shooting back at the police officers. He wasn't well. As they stepped into the elevator, she placed her hand on her heart while holding her mother's ring again. "What?"

"Police have surrounded the house."

Again her imagination created a gun fight where the police shot and killed her brother. She reached out and put her hand on Gabe's arm as she tried to stop the adrenaline that rushed through her veins. The elevator stopped on their floor, but she refused to move. "Turn it off. We can check in an hour. If we go minute-by-minute, I'll break out into a sweat and get myself all worked up. I just want to know what happened."

He held the button on the top of his phone and a moment later showed her the 'power off' screen. While he clicked it off, he nodded and offered his hand. "Fair enough."

In silence they walked around his home. She saw the pale blue walls and the Renaissance couples that seemed like original paintings on one wall and a tapestry hanging on another. The chandeliers made this room look more like a palace then a home. She followed his direction though her gaze stopped on the granite appearing Italian marble though he continued without one glance in any direction. They passed a closed door which she assumed was his room and a few seconds later he opened the second door. "This is your room for the night."

More pale blue and tapestries. The guest room was fit for a queen. She tugged at her black skirt and stared at her serviceable high heels. "I don't have anything with me."

"The service should have left you toiletries. You can sleep in one of my tee-shirts for the night."

He leaned against the door, and she returned to stand in front of him while she batted her eyes. "I didn't think when I went to see you that we'd be roommates."

He stepped out of the way to let her pass. A moment later when she was next to him, he closed the space between them. "What did you think when you met me?"

His full lips made her own pulsate with a desire for a kiss. Her face felt warm as she stepped away and let the space between them cool her down. "That you were nicer than I assumed. And you?"

"That Maddox had a pretty sister."

"Seriously?" He placed his hand on the small of her back again, and again she felt a spark.

He dropped his hand and stepped forward. "Clearly that was one-sided."

"No. It wasn't." She swallowed and stepped closer to him. Attraction zipped in her blood, but there was more to being near Gabe. With him, she felt cared for, which was probably silly. "The zap that hit me when I first met you threw me off. I assumed you'd be a spoiled rich man who was older than the pictures I saw today."

He stared at her and she closed her eyes while she tilted her face. Every instinct in her said he'd kiss her. The seconds ticked by until he stepped away. She blinked and pretended to follow him. "I'm in a lot of magazines as the face of my company."

"Those can be old. I find a lot of CEOs put out profile pictures from when they were attractive." The dark ocean in the bay view caught her gaze and she measured the entire home had an almost 180 degree view. In the morning, this would be gorgeous. She clutched her mother's ring that was still in her palm while she walked into the living area to explore.

He followed. "So you do find me attractive."

A huge grin appeared on her face while she turned to face him. Then she pocketed the ring in her bra as it was the only thing close to a pocket she had. "Relentless flirt, I see."

His gaze had followed her hand and her face felt red. He wasn't supposed to see that, but he licked his lips and she knew he liked what he saw. "No. I just always get what I want."

Right now she felt like she was the dinner. Her heart beat but this time it was pleasant and exactly what she wanted. "Even the sister of the guy who might have killed your parents?"

His breath hitched and a millisecond later, he closed the space between them again. "Which should have put you in the _no_ category right away."

To hold steady, she reached out and placed her hand near his heart. "I'm not?"

"Not unless you want to be." He tilted his head and again her entire body electrified, like she waited for a kiss.

Her skin felt alive and wanted to touch all of him, and have his hands roam her body. Her imagination had her close her eyes again. "I think I should be though. You and I are from different worlds."

"Just for the record, you can go into your room and I will keep you safe, for as long as you need. You can walk away and not kiss me."

"This is a bad idea." She nodded and parted her lips and waited.

"Very," he whispered and then he kissed her. He tasted better than chocolate. Part of her blended in him in a way that made her feel both alive and part of some bigger mystery that she couldn't explain. Her hands curled around the lapel of his suit jacket and hoped this kiss lasted forever.

# Chapter 4

The doorbell chimed like a grandfather clock. Megan swayed on her feet while Gable left her side. She couldn't quite think, as Gable's dimples captured her attention. "Dinner has arrived."

Her stomach growled at the same time she steadied herself. She could always stand on her own two feet. She lifted her chin and nodded. "Good. I am hungry."

He walked toward the door and glanced over his shoulder. "Turn on some music. I'll set the table."

She'd help with cleaning after. It was the least she could do. She made her way over to his iPad that was set up on iTunes. "Okay. I'll be right in to help."

While she scrolled through music, her fingers itched to know if anything had happened to her brother. Her heart beat faster. With a click, she was on Safari and searched out the news. Once in there, she found the local news, and her entire body stilled and chilled when she read the headline: Two officers were shot in a sting operation.

"Maddox." She clicked and read about how the police had surrounded his house earlier. "Is he dead?"

"What? Is something happening?" Gable called out from the kitchen and she glanced up to see his strong shoulder that came toward her. "Is everything okay?"

She turned it off and hugged her waist while she stood. "Check your phone."

"You should eat first."

Nausea grew in her stomach while she stared at his pocket and waited. He came up beside her and dug out his phone. Without a word he turned the power on to listen to his voicemail, and she closed her eyes and curled into his arms. "I'm scared."

"We'll find out together." He massaged her neck and listened to his voicemails. His face turned white. A minute later, he hit play and handed her the phone.

_The suspect has fled. We have collected more evidence from the house, but your family needs to remain secure until we have arrested Maddox Murdock_.

Her stomach churned. He had shot at police officers but escaped without leaving a lead. A headache began to grow. She couldn't handle reality at the moment. She massaged her temples as she stood straighter and stopped leaning on him. "Gabe, tell me something about you. Why did your parents name you Gable. That's not common."

His face twitched for a second, but a moment after he tilted his head and reached out for her hand. "My mother was obsessed with _Gone with the Wind_. My sister is Scarlett. I'm named after the actor who played Rhett. My other sister is named Olivia."

She stared at his palm like she wasn't sure what he wanted, but a second after she took his offered hand. "If she was obsessed with _Gone with the Wind,_ why isn't your name Rhett then?"

He winked. "My father refused. The actors were a compromise."

At least he had a cool personal reason for his name other than it was a great-grandparent's name which was always the common answer when she asked her mother why her name was Ashley or why Maddox had his name. Tradition was what her mother had always clung to whenever she was scared about a life-changing event. Her headache lessened from thoughts of her mother. "He compromised on all except your sister."

"Yes, and Scarlett is the dramatic one."

At least his sisters still had their brother to depend on. Again, her stomach felt like she'd drunk gasoline. She tried to ignore it and lowered her gaze. The reality of the news and his voicemail collided into a picture where her brother was still alive. She took a deep breath. "I am sorry for what my brother did to them. Do you need to check the hospital?"

He placed his phone on the table in front of them. "Olivia will call. It's her night to be with them."

If her mother was alive, she'd want to spend every second with her. Her eyes misted while she remembered how her own mother used to give her a pain reliever and pet her hair on days she had been sick as a girl. She'd never have her mother back and it was possible her brother had ruined Gabe's family too. A cold ice pick jabbed up her spine. "You must want to call her and check in. Don't let me being here interfere."

The moment he squeezed her hand, she felt a warmness that soothed her. "I will soon. Let's eat and then find out."

Again her stomach growled. Perhaps if she ate, she might feel better. She nodded and followed him into the kitchen to gather plates. In sync they put their to-go meals on the porcelain and ate in silence.

As she wiped her face with the napkin and swallowed her last bite, Gabe asked, "How is the Greek Feta Wrap?"

"Delicious." She smiled and watched him finish his gyro.

His phone rang. They both craned their necks and stared into the living area. The air singed with questions. "Go. It might be important."

With a nod, he walked away. She picked up the plates and brought them into the kitchen. She turned on the faucet and ran the hot water while she found the soap and sponge. She wouldn't listen to his conversation so she cleaned the plates and put them in the dishrack until he walked in and leaned against the kitchen door.

Her heart sped up as he stared at her. She finished the last dish, turned off the water and faced him. "I think you need to be prepared to stay here indefinitely."

Her brother. This wasn't good. She glanced at his phone and saw he had a screen open for her. "Why? Let me see."

He swallowed and turned his screen to show her. _I know you're with my traitor of a sister. Neither of you will be safe._

Maddox knew. She leaned against the kitchen cabinet for support and hugged her waist. None of what happened today made any sense. "How did he get away?"

"Check your email." Gabe came toward her and put his hand on her shoulder.

She felt paralyzed and her throat felt like it squeezed together. Gabe let her go and walked away. She placed her palm on the nearby counter to hold her. A second later, he came back with a laptop and motioned for her to join him near the kitchen island. Her knees felt like they trembled, but she stumbled forward and hoped she walked normal. Finally she leaned forward as he pushed the screen toward her. She looked at the screen and at him with her eyes narrowed until the colors of her email login page blurred together. "Why?"

He placed his hand on her back. "If he's contacted you in any way, we have to know right away."

Exactly what she didn't want to know, but with a sigh she nodded and stared at the screen that asked for her password. "The police will probably suspect me."

Then his fingers tapped against her skin and her body felt slightly warmer. She logged in and the screen changed to the list of her new emails, so she looked away. "You were with me."

"I don't think he'd email..." Her brother's handle was on the screen on a list of unread messages. Her heart beat faster. "Wait." The threat was also directed at her. She turned the screen toward him. "He knows it was me."

His voice message to her had been the same as what he wrote. There was nothing new. Gabe leaned closer and shut the screen, irritated. "He won't harm you."

She imagined for a second them on a deserted island, but she blinked the dream away. "How can you be sure?"

"My home is more secure than the White House."

It wasn't his security that made her feel anything. She swallowed as she peeked at his lips until she looked away. "I can't stay here forever. I have a job."

"Call in sick."

Depending even for a second on Gabe was a bad idea even if this was what she wanted. Strength meant she was supposed to survive on her own, but she smelled the scent of a home she had never truly had. But this was impossible, so she licked her lips and made an excuse. "I used my time when my mother died."

"Then lose your job. I'm sure there is something you can do for Hawke Inc."

The image of seeing him every day in a business setting when she was this attracted to him would be a recipe for disaster. She stood straighter and stepped out of his arms. She tugged her ear and tried to think of something to say. In silence, she walked toward the living room and the massive windows that overlooked the evening ocean. "Is it strange to hear your last name as incorporated or does that give you a sense of power?"

His footsteps echoed on the floor during the seconds he came toward her. "What? I thought we were talking about your sick time."

He wanted to protect her. She stared at the ocean and knew there were waves down below. The ebb and flow of the current made her think she too would survive. She turned and realized he was right behind her. "I'm over it. I'll call in and hope I don't lose my job."

"That's good."

Earlier his kiss set her off course. Her lips tingled, again, as she stared at him. "Yeah, I don't want to die by going back to my place, but I do want my cat. Maddox knows I care about Anakin and that he's all I have."

He crossed his arms and braced his legs wider. "So what do you want me to do?"

If she had to, she'd have to go home and hope her brother was too nervous, but her cat deserved to be with her now. "Can you get one of your security guards to go get him? I have the key. Once he's here, I'll sleep better."

"Sorry." His body became lax. "I wish you thought of it before."

She swallowed. "I thought I'd be home in the morning and that he'd be in jail."

"I don't know if the building allows cats."

She'd have to go and be scared, alone. "Seriously?"

"Okay. We won't worry about it. Give me a minute."

So he'd get Anakin. Perfect. She lowered her shoulders that she hadn't known were stiff and nodded. She turned toward the ocean to get a handle on herself. Nothing made sense in her life. "Thanks."

"Give me the key." Right. She walked away and went toward the door to her huge pocketbook. As she dug into the side pocket, she wrapped her fingers around the keys.

She handed the set to him.

"Anakin will be here in an hour."

"Great." Perhaps space was a good thing. Space would let her stop imagining what it would be to wake up next to Gabe. Her face felt hot as she shook her head. "Maybe we should go there? I would like a few clothes."

"No."

"Huh?" She stopped moving but felt her eyes widen.

"I can have clothes delivered. We don't want your brother tracking you here."

Tracking. Emails. Gabe ran a tech company. She narrowed her gaze. "Aren't you tracking that email?"

"How did you know?"

Right. At least her logic wasn't entirely gone near him. She licked her lips and tried to ignore the tingles. "You're Hawke Inc. The only thing I know about your company is that you do computer-based stuff. So how did someone like you serve in the military?"

"My parents own an oil company, but in family tradition, the sons always serve. I grew up in New York, but my parents had me understand what was expected of me since birth."

Her mother had been dirt poor in comparison, but they always said middle class. "So it was a rich man's way to prove himself to the world. Got it."

A small laugh escaped his lips. He reached out and hugged her. His arms around her gave her a sense of safety. He pulled away and straightened his spine. "Speaking of, I want to call my sister to check on my parents."

"Of course." She stepped away. His family mattered. She said a silent prayer that he heard good news.

He reached into his pocket and dialed. She returned to the sink and finished with the dishes.

"They're what?"

She dried the plates.

"That's amazing."

As she put it back on the rack, he smiled at her. "Be right there."

A second later she returned to his side and waited. He clearly had good news. Without warning, he hugged her and she swayed with her, like he wanted to dance. "My father is out of the coma. My mother is responding to his voice. I have to go."

"Thank God," she shouted and hugged him. Her brother had failed. On impulse, she kissed his cheek. "I'm so happy for you."

He let go of her. "I want you to come with me to the hospital."

A tremble rushed through her and her face heated. "I don't think I should."

"I don't want to leave you here alone."

Now coldness returned and she straightened. "Don't trust me with your tapestries?"

"I want you with me. I'm slightly nervous."

Want? Goosebumps grew on her arms. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

With security all around them, there was no way her brother would find them at the crowded hospital. She nodded. "Okay, let's go."

She lowered her head, until he brushed the skin of her cheek and his lips met hers for another mind numbing, needing more of him kiss. Though it was brief, she was now fueled with energy. If his parents were alive, anything was possible, including the two of them dating.

# Chapter 5

Gabe held Megan's hand while they rushed through the hallways. Orderlies pushed patients on beds in front of him in a line for a CT scan, but with luck the crowd dispersed the moment they tried to maneuver around them. He held Megan closer and guided her past the security people he'd placed near their private wing.

As they made it to the entry, Gabe nodded to two other men he'd served with overseas, Conner and Harrison, who each had taken a job in helping him protect his family. His sister, Olivia, walked out of the room and wiped her eyes. She took a deep breath and motioned for him to go.

Gabe took a step forward, but held Megan's hand and refused to let go. He held the door for her but his gaze immediately fell on his mother and next to his father who sat beside her sipping a small water cup. He let go of Megan's hand and hugged his mother. "Mom. Dad. I'm so happy."

As his mother's wrinkled arms wrapped around his neck, he felt like he could breathe. These two days had been horrible, but now that they were awake and responsive, he could live again. They seemed healthy. He let go of his mother and walked around the bed to hug his father. From behind him, his sister said, "Mom's doctor said the infection is over its worst and she's responding to medication and Dad woke up thirsty and demanding water, now."

Now was a word his father enjoyed saying. The moment his father let him go from the hug, Gabe stood taller and asked his burning question. "Mom, why were you both wearing bulletproof vests that day?"

Megan's face went white as she leaned against the wall.

His mother glanced at Megan who she stared at quizzically and answered, "Your father told me to."

He turned toward his father and asked, "Why, Dad?"

He sat straighter and nodded. "We had anonymous letters. I refused to let anything happen to your mother."

"Well you were still unconscious for days." His lips curled and he crossed his arms. Weeks earlier, Maddox had sent a warning before he tried to kill them. This behavior was a tell. He had threatened Megan too.

His father tried to end the questioning. "Neither of us are spring chickens anymore, kiddo."

Megan stepped forward but kept her head down. "You were wearing bulletproof vests?"

"Yeah." His mother stared with a quizzical look in her eye.

"Oh thank goodness." Megan swallowed and she sucked in her breath.

His mother turned toward him and asked, "Who is this young lady?"

Right. He expected the question sooner, but Olivia had been too preoccupied. He glanced at his parents and sister and let how healthy they looked sink in. A second later, he motioned for Megan to join him. She hugged her waist and followed him to the center of the room. Once he had his hand on her back, he hoped she relaxed. "Mom. Dad. This is Megan Murdock. I served with her brother during the war."

His mother gave her the 'welcome smile' as best she could in a hospital bed. "Nice to meet you."

Megan stared at him and her face went white. He then said, "Megan's in danger too for telling us who fired at you and I'm trying to keep her safe."

"How did you know?" His mother asked and stared at Megan.

"I found my brother's confession." Megan backed into him. " The second I found out, I contacted Gabe and the police."

"Mom, Megan's scared too and she's been more than helpful. I intend to keep her safe." So the cat was out of the bag. He had texted James, Conner and Harrison everything he knew about Maddox to protect his family, but he hadn't told his sisters, not yet.

His father stared at him and asked, "Why would he...?"

"He blames me for being captured and getting tortured, Dad." Gabe interrupted while the memory of a gun pointed at him blazed through his mind. His head throbbed until he met his friend's gaze. "It was in the desert."

A nurse entered the room with her traveling kit to check on both of his parents. His mother clenched her heart as his father shook his head and said, "I never wanted you to join."

No one said anything until the nurse left. Once the door closed, Megan added, "My brother has not been well in a long time. I'm so sorry."

"You seem lost, Megan." His father stared at her but briefly glanced at him. A second later, he lowered his head on his pillow and seemed tired, though he softened his gaze and asked, "Did he hurt you?"

His entire body froze. He looked away from Harrison and gazed at the first woman who had made him crave for more than anyone else in years, if he told himself the truth. He hadn't asked Megan if she was ever hurt by her brother.

Then her face turned red. "No, but he's not the same guy he was before he left."

_Traitor_. At least he hadn't said that out loud. The silence in the room was palpable. No one said anything, and the sound of hospital equipment filled the silence. "Give me one second to talk to Harrison and Conner."

Conner and his sister Olivia shared a look and the three of them walked toward the window. Gabe kept his voice low. "Did Maddox point a gun at me the day we almost lost Colt?"

"I wasn't close enough to you to see," Conner said.

Harrison wrapped his hand around his waist. "You screamed traitor right before the bomb exploded."

Again he thought about the gun that was pointed at him, but this time he remembered a USB in Maddox's hand. Suddenly the scene played out and the entire moment clicked in his head. Maddox had set Colt up to die though Belle pulled him out. Conner had chased Maddox to get his hands on the USB that had his information when the bomb detonated, and they were all almost killed.

He gazed up at his friends and whispered, "I don't think Maddox was taken to prison that day, if ever. Everything was a blur."

Conner nodded and glanced at his sister Olivia. "True and we all moved on, intending to forget."

"Agreed. I started my tech firm in Internet security because I kept seeing codes in my head that could hurt our country's Internet infrastructure. Banks are my biggest clients. Maddox took a program I had worked on at the time."

Harry then asked, "His sister is looking at you with wide eyes. Are you sure she's not a spy for him?"

The thought hadn't crossed his mind about Megan. He'd been fascinated with the curve of her hips. As he thought about her, nothing came to mind but she was being honest. "I don't think so, but I ran a background check on her to be sure."

"Let us know if anything changes," Harrison said.

Conner stared at Olivia who blushed and turned her attention toward their mom.

Gabe needed to get Megan out of here before anyone asked him about them. He had no answers at the moment other than he wanted to spend more time with her and there was no way she was a willing spy for her brother. He shook his father's hand and once he finished, he turned and hugged his mother one more time. "Mom. Dad. I'm glad you're good."

His father said, "Take care of Megan, Gable. In turning in her own family, she chose to do the right thing. I admire courage in a woman."

_Wise words_ though his father lived in a different era with his comments sometimes. Gabe choked on his thought. "I will, Dad."

With a yawn, his father said, "Come back tomorrow. We're both tired, but we want to talk at length with your pretty woman."

How he didn't blame Megan at all was exactly what he always expected of his father. He nodded and said, "Yes sir."

"Your father seems nice." Megan followed him to the door.

"Now." He nodded at his friends who waited in the hall. He'd speak to them tomorrow about the jobs they were doing for him. Right now, he held out his arm that she latched onto from the simple gesture. "Growing up he was demanding. Age has mellowed him."

As they cleared the first door and headed to the elevator, her face went white and she stopped midstride. Then she tugged his arm. "Wait."

"You're pale." He placed his hand on the small of her back.

She pointed toward the elevator corridor with a lot of people who passed each other. "My brother. He was just there."

He glanced everywhere but saw no sign of Maddox. With all the people, it was hard to see everyone. He turned her around and walked her toward his parent's room. "Let's get back. Olivia and Conner and Harrison are there."

She nodded and tugged on his shirt. "Call 911."

He picked up his phone and dialed as he glanced at Megan's pocketbook. If Maddox was here, he knew they were here. He opened the door to hold it. "Conner, guard the door."

His former Marine friends all stood taller and on edge while he explained to the police.

Harrison ensured his parents beds were together and asked, "What's happening?"

Megan answered his friend at the same time he talked to the police. "Maddox is here."

"What's going on?" His mother asked with a yawn.

Megan hugged her waist, but his mind raced. "This is all my fault."

"How?" Megan placed her hand on his back the moment he hung up the phone. He stared at his mother and father who held hands.

The image of standing in the desert as he reached for Maddox. In that flash, Belle screamed and he turned. A second later in his memory the explosion rocked and he fell backward. When he had looked for Maddox, he was gone.

"This is not your fault. I'm sure you did everything you could." Her words brought him back to the present.

His friends guarded the door until the police knocked.

After the police took their statements, and they went to check, Megan whispered to him, "I should have put him in a mental institution or something. Now I'm afraid of what he'll do and afraid of what happens if he's not arrested."

He reached out and took her hand. "You're with me now. I'll keep you safe."

It seemed too soon as his family and friends and Megan huddled together to play cards. Minutes ticked past until his sister put her hand down and said, "The police are back."

The officer nodded. "We've checked the halls and have police assigned everywhere. We haven't seen Maddox Murdock. He must have escaped."

Or he knew he couldn't get through his defenses. Again he glanced at Megan's pocketbook. If he wanted to track someone he'd use their phone. He hugged his parents and placed his hand on his friend's back to "Harrison, you're in charge of my parents. Stay in contact with the police. He cannot get to them."

He picked up his hand of cards and said, "Relax, Gabe. Go home with your girl. I've got this."

His jaw ticked, but seconds later he turned to his friend guarding his sister. "Conner..."

Conner waved him off and stared at his sister. "I'll keep Olivia safe. Go."

Everything was in order. He placed his hand on her back and asked, "Ready, Megan?"

Without a word, he guided Megan through the door, with security. In silence they made their way to the parking garage. "Where are we going?"

She must be scared. He winked at her. "Home, to check on your cat."

The moment he opened her door, she said, "Gabe, I swear I saw him."

"I believe you." He closed her door and hopped into the driver's side. He started the engine. "The bigger question was why was he at the hospital."

She placed her bag on the floor. "I don't know."

He glanced at it one more time. "Has he ever used your phone?"

"My cell phone?" She reached inside her bag and fished it out. As she stared at it, she bit her front lip lightly. "I think he did at Mom's funeral."

He reached out and took it from her. "I'm going to trash your phone and we'll buy you another."

Without more explanation, he opened the car door, placed it under the tire, closed his door and reversed. The crack of electronics rang in the air. "You ran it over."

He opened his door and confirmed he'd smashed it into shards. Done, he closed the door and drove off, "I think he installed a tracker."

She glanced backward. "If he's following me then he knows we are in the parking lot."

"Buckle up." He sped faster.

If Maddox had a tracker in her phone, he'd already know he'd take her home, but starting now, Maddox would have no idea of his next move.

# Chapter 6

"Is Anakin here?" Megan asked at the same time Gabe opened the front door to his palace of a home. She left his side and searched the house. Near the door and the closet, she spotted a litter box. The moment she came to the kitchen, she saw a stainless-steel tray with cat food. Her cat should be here, somewhere.

"He should be," Gabe called out as he went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She continued to search and opened her bedroom door. Anakin was nowhere to be found.

The day she took the cat home, he stayed hidden for three days until he figured out his surroundings. He was a stay-at-home type.

She pressed her lips together and stood in the hall. A fraction of a second later, she saw how his door was slightly opened. It must be the master bedroom. She called out, "Gabe."

"Yeah?" He came around the corner holding a glass of water.

She pointed to the door that she didn't dare cross. "Is that your room?"

He gulped his water, briefly disappeared from view, and finally returned to the hallway without the glass. The moment he opened the door, she held still. His eyes widened and his pupils grew smaller. "He's on my pillow."

Anakin was there. She breathed and finally dared to pop her head in for a second. While her gaze adjusted to the dark room, she saw her cat was fast asleep on his white sheets. With her lips pressed together, she turned and stared at Gabe as she gripped the door frame. "He's just a cat."

The second he shrugged, she relaxed. "Let's get a beer, relax and I'll figure out how to wrestle my pillow back."

Once he returned to stand near her, she pressed her hand on his wrist. "Thank you for letting my cat stay with us. There are many people who hate cats."

He winked and watched her. Her face must be red, but he kept his lips closed and led her into the kitchen. Near the island, he let her go, and went toward the food. She stayed near the counter. "I never had one, but the rumor about women with cats permeates our culture."

The tiles were cold under her tired soles. She slipped a foot out of her shoe and let it curl higher on her other leg. "Then maybe you can kiss me and judge for yourself whether I fit the profile?"

The door to the refrigerator closed. He came closer and his finger brushed against her cheeks. "Are you sure?"

Her heartbeat sped up. Tonight she was here and safe. She opened her lips and closed her eyes. "I know this just for the night and there are no promises..."

"Don't..." He said as he massaged her shoulders.

She opened her eyes. Once again, she imagined more than he offered. She let out a soft sigh. "Gabe, I just need to feel your warmth next to me. We don't have to do anything."

He let his hands fall to the sides and pointed her toward the couch. "Then let's not rush. Do you want beer or a glass of wine?"

She slipped her shoe on but followed directions, though she couldn't sit on the couch. She went toward the windows and stared at the night sky and how it blended with the ocean in the horizon. "Beer is good. Sometimes wine can go straight to my head."

He came and placed a Corona with a lime next to him. She glanced at the usual light beer served in Florida under the heat and sun and met his gaze while he sat. "Megan, I know you're an accountant. Where did you go to school?"

She hugged her waist but left the window. Next to him would be warm, but she couldn't decide. "FSU. You?"

"Columbia."

_Of course. New York all the way_. She stood in front of him but swayed on her feet. "So what made you move from New York to Miami?"

"It's cheaper to incorporate in Florida and I like it here."

She dropped her hands to her sides while she descended into the seat next to him. "What did you major in?"

All around her, she could smell cedar and her heart slammed in her chest. "Computers..."

"Right." She interrupted but her skin felt electrified and warm. She pushed her own hair out of her face. "I get nervous near you when you look at me like that."

He blinked and put his drink down. "Like what?"

Perhaps he flirted with everyone he ever met, but the buzz inside her pushed her to continue. "Like you want to kiss me."

With his lips close to hers, he let his hand drop in her lap. "You asked me..."

Her face grew hot as she lowered her lashes. Her trip over the hot coals continued, so she shifted uncomfortably and slipped her shoes off. She decided to sit on her feet, but it didn't help her. "I did. Every time you kiss me, I want more."

His blue eyes grew darker as he stayed close, like he wanted to touch her. Again she felt the energy that he'd kiss her, but this time she kept her gaze on him. "Megan, we probably shouldn't."

Everything she felt must be one-sided. She stilled and tried to dampen her attraction. "You're right. We shouldn't. You and I will never work."

"Not what I meant." He cupped her face.

Before she could ask a question, his lips met hers and it felt like he branded her. Her legs uncurled from under her and she leaned in for more. His arms held her tight, like she was the Christmas present he wanted to unwrap all at once, while his lips trapped hers.

"Wow," she said, once the kiss ended. She meant to lower her legs toward her shoes, but somehow she spread her legs across his lap and he massaged her heels.

He continued the circular motion. "I've not acted myself since I met you."

Goosebumps coated her arms and body again. The admission lay between them. She sat straighter and inched to take her legs back, but his massage made her soles feel fresh. "How?"

"I never let a woman get under my skin." He moved his hands higher on her legs.

Soon, he'd get to her skirt. This was it. She swallowed and said, "I would never hurt you."

She blinked as she tugged his shirt off and saw the old wounds that he had on his left side that traced around to his back. She placed her hand on it and felt his warm skin ripple under her touch. "I like your battle scars. It's sexy."

"I don't like talking about what happened," he admitted but a second later he leaned forward and kissed her. In his arms, she was safe and felt she was comfortable with him in a way she hadn't been with anyone else. His strong shoulder muscles trembled under her soft grip. His lips tasted like honey and she craved more. The moment they came for air, she tasted him on her lips still, like he was a hot drink made just for her. "Mmm-hmmm."

Dimples appeared on his face when his hands traced her legs. Everything felt perfect, and she liked how her body bloomed from how he glanced at her waist and chest.

_Yes_. Tonight she was his. She moved her hands to brush against his face and her fingers traced his lips.

He lifted her shirt and kissed her stomach. No one ever made her feel this warm.

# Chapter 7

Megan stretched, opened her eyes, and glanced at the window. It was bright outside, but there must be a filter that blocked those heavy rays. She heard the door open and close her eyes to pretend to sleep. A moment later, she felt the mattress sag next to her hip. She shifted, but she felt Gabe's warm hand on her arm as he asked, "Megan, are you awake?"

"I am now." She smiled as she stretched her arms for the second time. "Is everything okay?"

He nodded. "Your brother..."

"What now?" she interrupted and sat up. Her heart beat a mile a minute and it felt like the air around her refused to go into her lungs. She reached out to hold Gabe's hand.

"He hacked your work email."

Suddenly she could breathe again.

At least he wasn't dead, but she pressed her lips together to not even whisper that out loud. Her brother needed to be stopped. She tilted her head and blinked, as she wasn't ready to think. "What?"

He sat at the edge of the bed. "I set up a trace for how he found us at the hospital. I assumed it was your phone, but did you get your work email delivered there?"

"Yeah." If Gabe could trace her phone to her email, all digitally, then she understood why data mattered and why his company was relevant in today's world. "But I was told to keep in touch with my boss through emails at all hours."

He scooted closer and she felt warmer from his nearness. "I have to call Morgan Enterprises and speak to the CEO but I wanted to let you know first."

He stood and she followed. He could see the huge T-shirt of his that she borrowed to sleep in last night. "Why?"

He reached out and traced the sleeve of her—well his—shirt. "My corporation charges a lot of money for Internet security and I'm going to have to use your name in my recommendations to them."

She lowered her face. This wasn't that exciting and she had no right to hope for a kiss. "Is that why you woke me up?"

He pressed his hand on her shoulder and she looked at him. "No, I wanted to see you."

"Now that sounds good." A huge grin grew on her face and she came closer.

His lips came close to hers and she closed her eyes. Then he lightly kissed her, and she felt safe. For a second, everything else didn't matter, but the feeling dissipated the moment his lips left hers and he stepped away. He stood with his feet pointed to the door, but turned his neck and gave her a small smile. "No, I don't think you understand. Get dressed. I want to talk to you."

"Okay." She gazed at his strong shoulders as he walked toward the bedroom door. She called out, "Let me get dressed."

At the door, he reached out into the hallway and moved a few plastic bags on the desk in his bedroom. She wondered where those bags came from for a moment because they were not there last night. Once he put them all down, he said, "I had my assistant drop off clothes for you. Please pick something new and meet me for breakfast."

"Really? Okay. Give me a minute." Whatever was in the bag, hopefully this fit better than the last outfit she'd bought online, and her eyes widened because she opened and stared at the first label. Valentino. Her hand trembled. This was not in her budget. Her heart sped up, but Gabe was already outside and she couldn't protest the purchase.

She left the packages on the bed and went to clean herself. If she wore these, she could pretend to be in his world easier. She went out and selected white pants and a blue, flowy shirt that made her feel soft. If she had to, she'd dip into her savings account to pay Gabe back. Right now, she wondered if he thought she looked good. She opened the door and followed her nose that instantly smelled coffee and made her stomach grumble.

"I'm here."

Gabe returned to the kitchen and placed his hand on her back as he leaned forward and handed her a cup. "Megan, last night..."

"We don't have to talk about..." She licked her lips and focused on the coffee. It would taste heavenly.

He walked next to her while they made it to the kitchen nook table and he pulled out her chair. "We do though. I have something I want us to be clear on."

She sipped the coffee finally, and the taste made her forget where she was for a split second. The moment passed so she blinked and stared into those sexy, blue eyes of his and asked, "What?"

He reached out for her hands. She stared at his palms, put her coffee down and reached out for him. Then he traced her knuckles. "First, I want to let you know I'm running a background check on you."

His fingers made her skin pulsate with desire, even as her eyes widened. "What do you think you'll find?"

"Nothing except how much more I want to know about you." He kissed her hand. She felt branded. No one had ever kissed her hand before. It was only a moment she ever saw on television.

He let her hands go and she curled them around her glass at the same time she looked away. "Ask me anything."

"I haven't had a steady girlfriend since I returned home." Wow. Her heart beat faster in her chest while she thought that he was asking her.

She flipped her hair behind her ears as she tried to silence the thunder she felt inside. "You haven't?"

He scooted closer to her and she could sense her desire growing, which made no sense, except that she more than liked him. "Megan, I know we just met and that your brother wants to kill me, but I hope when this is all over you'll consider sticking around and just be with me when it's quiet."

Anything he wanted. She lowered her head and reached out for his hand. "Yes. I'll be your girlfriend."

"Good."

He was so close. In that white T-shirt of his, he was sexy and adorable. She leaned closer to kiss him, when his phone beeped out an alarm. She sat straighter but she clutched the table like it might help her. "Why is it going off now?"

"I don't know. Let me check." He said and jumped out of his seat and reached for his laptop.

Right. The bell was his phone and not on the smoke alarm so there was no fire. She uncurled her hand from the table and picked up her coffee cup. She poured more coffee for both of them while he returned with his laptop and typed fast. She gave him a few minutes, and she finished her second cup fast. Thirty seconds later, she took the seat next to him.

"What's happening?" she asked as she curled closer to him.

He glanced at her and gave her leg a squeeze. "Give me a minute."

"Okay." She stared at the screen, but to her the words on the screen seemed gibberish. If he looked at her accounting files, he'd probably think the same, so she waited.

He typed fast and finished in a blink. "Someone is cyber-attacking Hawke Inc. I have to go to the office."

Her own job was how she paid her bills so she completely understood his rush to his job. "Ohh. Well should I go to work then?"

"No." He reached out, held her closer and kissed her forehead. "This is an old military maneuver where you hit both sides of the army at the same time to throw off the planks."

"I don't understand."

"I have an emergency situation. I'd bet money that you're about to get an emergency that will separate us and it's better for both of us if we stick together like glue."

With Gabe, she'd have a shot at not spending her life alone, which was where she assumed her life was heading toward. She nodded and he let his hold on her lessen. She turned her chair toward the kitchen. "This is a lot of food we haven't touched."

He put his head on her shoulder and hugged her over the chair. "Does that mean you agree?"

She turned back toward him and nodded. Then she kissed his cheek. "As long as there is time for me to eat. I'm famished."

Before she could scoot her chair toward the table, Gabe shoved a laptop in front of her. "Okay, please check your email from this computer."

She narrowed her gaze while she rested her fingers on the keyboard. "Why?"

"I have a tracker on this that will reverse any worms you have."

With a deep breath, she logged on and found the email service. She clicked in, placed her hand on Gabe's thigh. "There is an email from Maddox."

"Read it but remember it will be news that will want to separate us."

She held her breath and read. _Sis, I'm sorry about yesterday. I went to Mom's grave before I left town and someone had vandalized her headstone._

She felt an electric zap and fisted her hands. "My mother doesn't deserve to be part of this."

"Whatever happened, I can get it fixed."

Gabe and his money hadn't given Maddox any right to do this. This was wrong, and Gabe should not have to fix what her brother had done, vandalizing their mother's eternal resting place. She scooted out of her seat. "That's not the point. Maddox shouldn't..."

"You can't control him." Gabe said as packed his laptop and fixed their chairs to face their breakfast that had been pushed aside.

If she went to work with him, she was dressed already. "After your work, we'll go to the graveyard?"

"Yes. Together."

"And I will talk to the caretakers on the phone."

"Good plan."

Her thoughts cleared. At least this way they would get everything in order and be together. Her stomach no longer rumbled for food. She pointed to the front door. "Better get going."

He arranged the plates in front of them. "Relax, you're with me now and you were hungry."

She let him guide her to sip her coffee without complaint. While he folded her napkin in her lap, she tugged at her ear. "Gabe, why me of all women?"

He winked at her. "Because you make me feel like I'm home."

Perfect answer. She picked up a piece of toast as she felt her face grow warmer. "I feel the same which is funny because my mother told me I was the strong one who could survive anything."

"We can both be strong, together."

For once, she had a partner and this was great. If only her brother hadn't ruined her chances to be happy and fall in love because Gabe Hawke was amazing and the best man she'd ever met.

# Chapter 8

Gabe held the front door for Megan that she walked past him and into Hawke Inc. He placed his hand on her lower back and led her to the elevators. No one said anything to them, but he saw his employees glance over and then look away.

Megan had agreed to be his girlfriend, and he worried he couldn't offer her all she deserved since they were starting off on this path with her brother between them. Once her brother was captured, he'd make the time to whisk her off to Venice for the weekend where they could eat at his favorite restaurant.

The elevator beeped and opened which brought him back to the present moment. No one joined them, so he leaned forward and smelled the roses of her skin that made his body ache for her. Then he stood straighter and admitted, "Memories of what happened in the desert are coming back to me."

"Are they about my brother?" she asked the moment the doors opened to his office floor.

"Yes." His secretary stared at the pair of them, but she lowered her head immediately. Megan kept her question to herself, but he smiled and showed her the way to his office. She stayed in step with him.

The second the doors closed to his office and they were alone again, she asked, "What happened?"

He led her a chair across from his desk, but she picked it up to move it closer. He held out his hands and took it from her and then placed her seat next to him. Once they were settled and he sat at his desk, he turned toward her, hands together. "Even as a Marine, I intended to take a loan from my father and start Hawke Inc. as a computer security service. I was stupid at twenty-two and decided to create a hack that would grant me information about almost any company or government organization that would mutate until it found a point of entry."

Her brown eyes seemed to assess him, like one of his computers. She nodded and said, "Sounds like a virus."

"Yeah. I'm using non-tech terms, but that's a good comparison."

She leaned forward. "Okay, so you created a virus hack, and?"

Memories flashed in his mind of the explosion, of how Belle screamed and pulled Colt toward her, of dust and rocks that flew in his face the moment, and the shards of that metal fence that poked at his skin. The images blurred in every thought, but he focused on the USB and said, "I told James, Conner, Colt, Belle, Harrison and Maddox my plans and what I had done while we were on a mission. A few days later Maddox stole my hack on a USB on the day we were attacked."

Her eyes widened. "He what?"

"I thought he died."

With her nod, he felt calmer. Good. Memories of the desert and what had happened to him drained him.

Silence clung in the air and he took the moment to regroup his energy for the day. The second ended when she asked, "So what do you plan to do now?"

Right. Focus on today. He reached out and patted her hand. Her email was for Morgan Enterprises and that was how her brother traced her. He swallowed and said, "My clients are safe because I created a way to block my own hack years ago, but your boss is not my client and he's under attack. I have no idea how many other companies or organizations Maddox might have hacked."

She reached out and held his wrist while her gaze read that she was almost pleased with him. "Did you feel guilty this morning when you asked me to be your girlfriend because of what you did?"

"Absolutely not." He tugged her closer and then kissed her forehead because he didn't have a clear shot at her lips. "You're the prettiest and most interesting woman I've met in a long time."

A slow smile emerged as she lifted her chin. "Good answer. Did you forget all of what you said?"

"About you being my sexy girlfriend, no."

"I meant about my brother and what you said about the desert."

Later, he'd get that kiss from her. For now, he sat farther back in his chair and pointed toward the door. "Yes and no. I blocked all thoughts about him until I heard your name from my secretary and you jogged my memories. Megan and Maddox sounds like matching twin names."

"So you'd want the first letter to be the same if you had twins. Got it."

Megan's offbeat sense of humor made her charming. His stare went lower and he peeked at her chest for a second. Megan was a few years younger and her lips were too kissable. He needed to keep his distance or he'd follow through on his instinct. Instead, he opened his computer and continued the conversation. "Wait. Your brother has blue eyes."

"Wait. Many Cubans are blond and blue-eyed."

"Sorry." His face felt hot while he realized he was way too distracted from wanting to touch her and keep her close. He turned toward her. Right now, he needed to not think about fixing the potential threat. He focused on bringing her into what weighed on his mind. "I wanted you aware of what this is before I tell your boss, Peter Morgan, that his financial empire has a security problem."

She stood, like she should leave. "Do you want me to wait outside your office?"

"No." He stood and gestured for her to stay and sit next to him. Once she followed, he retook his seat and said, "I told you this morning, we need to stick together."

"Even in the same building?"

He typed on his keyboard and saw his secretary's message that Peter Morgan was in the building. They had minutes, so he answered Megan fast. "I believe your brother wants revenge. It's easier to accomplish if we're alone."

He clicked on the proposal and hit print as Megan crossed her arms. "Why revenge then? Sounds like he stole from you though I was under the impression at his house that he hated you because of something you did to him."

He stopped and again the memories of the dust in the air that burned his lungs threatened to overtake the present moment. "I left him to die."

"What?"

The tone in her voice told him she hadn't believed him. He turned toward her, took her hand in his and took a breath. Megan was a sweetheart and believed in the right thing. He swallowed his pride and tried to explain. "In the threats against my parents and sisters, it was all about taking the people who were important to me away. Now that I know it was Maddox, my friends who are guarding my family and were there now understand this all relates to the day we were ambushed and I couldn't get to your brother before the bomb went off."

A shadow of a man came through the window near the door and Megan tensed. "Which is how he was captured and tortured. Got it." She took her hand back and scooted her chair away the moment she finished, "Okay. I'll sit in on the meeting."

"Thanks." He stapled the proposal and stood to greet their visitor. Megan's boss walked through the door and Gabe walked around and offered his hand to shake. "Peter Morgan."

He shook his hand. "Gabe Hawke." He tipped his head toward Megan and said, "Megan Murdock. Did you quit your job at my company?"

She placed her hands behind her back and shook her head. "No, sir. I needed time off, not that I thought you noticed me ever there."

"I had my security firm run background before the meeting, and your name came up." Peter gestured toward his seat and they all sat straighter. "So my question for the two of you is what's going on and how does this relate to Morgan Enterprises?"

Gabe placed the proposal in a folder. "Your company has been hacked. We're working to catch the criminal, but you are technically not my customer so I can't fix your problem."

He sat like he was a king of the world. "How do you know it affects me?"

"I found it on my computer after Megan logged into her work email."

Peter glanced at Megan and returned his attention to him as he lowered his head. "Gabe, I am sorry for what happened to your parents."

The police were keeping what happened a secret so no one knew his parents were fine. He nodded. "Thank you. The man who shot them in the street is the same one who is stealing from your company."

Megan held both of her hands in her lap. "The threat came to me from my email that I check all the time per my boss's opinion that we always know what's going on in the office."

"Fair enough." Peter gestured for the contract. Gabe handed it to him and he read fast. A few seconds later, he nodded. "I'll have my legal department look at the contract today and get back to you. We will help in any criminal investigation but my company's priority is the privacy of information about our clients."

"I understand." Gabe stood and shook his hand. Eliminating and changing the code to reverse the virus itself to destroy the information it collected would give Morgan Enterprises total security from this theft. Hawke Inc would benefit so this was an easy win-win.

Peter said, "Expect to hear from me today."

Then he walked out the door. Gabe stayed still until the door closed behind him. In the same moment, Megan came beside him, tucked her hand under his arm and held him close. "That was easy. Now we deal with my mother's grave?"

Today hadn't been what he feared. In fact, near Megan, his mouth watered. He wrapped his hands around her and drew her closer. "Yes, after you kiss me."

Her sweet lips tasted like heaven itself and he forgot about the day.

# Chapter 9

Megan had worried the entire time that if she saw the grave then she'd break into tears. After Gabe parked in the driveway and they stepped onto the gravel road, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. Now she'd see firsthand how Maddox had changed from a bullied but still sweet teen who ensured she'd had her packed lunch to someone who murdered and knocked over their mother's grave.

Part of her hoped he hadn't.

Gabe put his hand on her back and walked with her toward the grave. At least his warmness gave her a sense of home and belonging. She stayed in his arms.

A caretaker stopped them in the office. He stepped in front of them and said, "Miss Murdock?"

She blinked but held Gabe close. "Yes?"

The caretaker lowered his head. "I'm sorry that someone targeted your mother's grave. We are repairing all the damage now and hope to take care of everything as soon as we can."

Numbers ran through her head. A few months ago the figures of how much dying cost astounded her. She pressed her lips together until the figures dissipated from her brain and she asked, "Did the insurance payment cover damages?"

"Yes." The caretaker glanced up and met her gaze.

At least she wasn't going to be charged another exorbitant amount. She swallowed and then glanced behind the guy and to the door. She had to know what her brother had done. "Okay. Thank you."

The moment they walked out the front door of the small office and toward the graveyard, they heard blue birds singing. The grass was freshly mowed and the cemetery seemed peaceful instead of fearsome. Her mother had always loved nature and the distant palm trees and butterflies would make her smile.

They walked closer to the corner lot near the palm trees enclave and the tightness in her chest grew as she pointed to the split tombstone where someone likely used a jackhammer and then chicken blood and heads to act like this was a Santeria ritual. Her mother would hate this. Tears washed down her check and she turned into Gabe's shoulder and hugged him. "This is where we buried my mother."

He patted her hair and held her tight. Having him here with her helped her trust. Being alone would have been unbearable. She left the hug and wanted to say _I love you_ but instead said, "I needed your shoulder for a minute."

He tucked her hair behind her ear. "We'll come back and pay homage to your mother once all of this is repaired and cleaned."

"Thanks." The gleam in his gaze made her hope that he'd feel the same. Once her brother was captured, perhaps they could go on a date, relax and learn about each other like normal people. Right now her feelings were intense.

She turned to walk away, but he tagged behind her, for a second until he caught up and took her hand in his. "Glad I could be here with you."

"I'm glad too." She turned away from the grave that was knocked over with some heavy, mechanized hammer. The moment they were about to walk away, her stomach went into knots. She swallowed and her throat felt bitter, like acid. She took another step forward and said, "Something is in the air. I feel uneasy."

Gabe held her hand close to his heart. "We'll pay someone to clean all this up. Let me get you home."

A twig snapped behind them. The moment became crystal clear in that second she heard the unmistakable voice of her brother. "I thought you'd come alone, sis."

"Maddox!" She turned around and stared at the barrel of the rifle that her brother pointed at them.

Gabe stepped in front of her and tried to block her. "Let your sister leave and we'll keep this between the two of us."

Maddox flicked the barrel of the rifle at her head and then toward Gabe again. "You left me for dead and now you've stolen my only family."

"Maddox, it's not like that." She tried to step around Gabe. He wouldn't die because of her.

Gabe refused to let her go around and he stayed in front of her.

Maddox aimed right at Gabe. "Sis, stay out of this. Your boyfriend left me to die and now he's stolen you too."

No. She couldn't lose Gabe too. She cried out. "This doesn't have to end in violence."

"Tell that to my parents." Gabe refused to step aside.

"No." Megan screamed for the two of them while sirens echoed in the distance. "Don't. Stop. The police are here."

"I had called them earlier, Megan." Gabe told her without one glance in her direction. "I thought this might happen."

"Gabe, for you touching my sister, I will repay you in kind. You have two sisters." Maddox shot.

Gabe threw her on the ground in the same second. The shot hung in the air—then she felt warm goo on her hand. Gabe still blocked her, but she moved her hand up from his thigh and saw blood on her fingers. She knew it wasn't life-threatening, but she cried out, "Gabe!"

"You've chosen the wrong side, sis." Maddox said.

At the same time the police circled around them in their cars.

She sat forward and was stunned. Gabe's wound oozed more than she realized and he needed to get to a hospital, soon. Right now he was still alive, but her brother was her issue. She held Gabe in her arms. "The police have you surrounded. There is no escape. Maddox, don't do this."

While the police began to open their doors, her brother put his rifle on his back, grabbed her off the ground, wrapped his arm around her neck and held a small gun toward her temple. "Sure there is. I have you."

He began to drag her toward the trees. His skin smelled like gun residue and all traces of her once good brother were gone the moment he squeezed her neck. She struggled and yelled, "Get off."

He continued to drag her away while the police all pointed their guns at her. Every inch they took felt like an eternity, but then she glanced down at Gabe and he wasn't where he'd been slumped over, shot. Her body felt numb but her mind raced.

Everything was a blur.

A twig underneath her brother's feet snapped as they were close to the palmetto trees. The sound hadn't warned her. Suddenly she was shoved to the ground. She grunted and realized that someone jumped both her brother and her from behind.

The weight on her lifted. She lifted her head, but felt the men struggle beside her. Dirt splashed in her eyes and she twisted away. A split second later, she felt cold metal next to her knees while she stood.

She glanced down at the gun next to her.

Maddox reached for it. Her heart pounded, and she kicked it farther away. She stood taller and was ready to help more.

Her heart beat throbbed in her ears when she realized that Gabe had tackled them. He punched her brother hard against the jaw.

She winced and her own jaw throbbed from pain, when she wasn't even in the fight. Her mother would want her to stop this. She felt the presence and she screamed out, "Gabe!"

He stopped the next punch midair. "I couldn't let him hurt you."

Gabe was her hero. Her heart fluttered. The moment was almost surreal and black and white, but it became vivid and bright the moment the police came and read her brother his rights.

The instant the police took Maddox into custody, Gabe limped toward her and hugged her.

In that flash of color, nothing stirred. She could smell the testosterone and the sense of belonging she felt in his arms made her forget everything except they were together.

She felt in his arms that the world circled around them. Her body ached for him, but she pulled away. The world came back into its intense hue while the police blue and red lights shone in her eyes and the clatter of her brother being handcuffed into a car broke the peace of the cemetery. She sighed and grabbed Gabe's arm. "Let's get you to a hospital."

"Only if you're right next to me." Gabe fingers intertwined with hers.

Good. Yes. There was nowhere else she'd be. His fingers warmed her.

A police sergeant nodded like he had some voice in their lives. "We can question you both there."

Right. At some point they'd give statements and this might seem real. She unlaced her hands and held a finger up. "I need to talk to Maddox."

As she walked away, Gabe called out, "He's in the police car."

"One second." She turned around and met his gaze. A huge part of her wanted to stay in his arms, but this was her last chance. Maddox was her brother and once upon a time, he'd protected her from school bullies that tried to knock over her lunch tray. She walked toward the car that her brother was in and talked through the open door, "Maddox."

He refused to look at her. "I have nothing to say to traitors."

In his profile, she still saw flickers of the boy she remembered. She felt her eyes begin to swell with tears. "You will always be my brother. Our mom loved us both, and you were her favorite."

He turned and his blue eyes met hers. "You don't know what family is."

Right and wrong sometimes swirled in her head, but she had done everything to do the right thing but at the same time protect him. Her mother had instilled in her that she would always find her way, and that she needed to help Maddox.

She hugged her waist and tried not to let his words act like a slap to her face. "Maddox, you're wrong. I will see to it that you're offered help. I miss the boy who used to protect me."

He turned away. "Go away, Megan."

The police slammed the door closed and she felt her entire body drag until she returned to Gabe. Then he leaned on her for support. In unison, they walked, and she held him tight. "Let's go."

She walked him toward an ambulance and felt a peace growing inside of her. She was with the right man. Alone, she'd tell him that she was in love with him. Right now she kept the conversation light. "How did you call the police? I never saw you make a phone call."

"I had an app built on my phone. I don't have to dial 911 now. The app sends my exact location to my security team and the police. I hit the button when we arrived at the cemetery because I guessed your brother's every move."

"You're a genius. That app alone will probably net you millions." Numbers swam in her head and her logical brain wanted to crunch the numbers of how much that could earn him. This thought helped her carry more of his weight and become numb to what her brother said earlier. Right now she was helping everyone she loved.

He pressed more of his weight on her until the stretcher with the EMT came toward him. "I created it fast when my family was being targeted."

Someone reached out and helped him onto the ambulance bed and he didn't struggle. She let go and hopped in once the crew member invited her. The team of people who helped him worked on stabilizing him. She took his hand while they placed his leg in an orange brace to keep him still. The EMTs worked, but she stilled and patted his hand. "How is your leg?"

"At least it wasn't my chest." He tilted his head and ground his teeth.

Goodness. This was her fault. The thought weighed on her while she massaged the side of his face. If she could've stop what happened, she would have. At least the threat was over. She lowered her gaze as he face felt hot. "Maddox was arrested."

"And I kept my promise not to kill him." He took her hand in his again.

The ambulance blazed down the street, away from the grave. "Gabe, your family will be worried."

The second the ambulance made a turn, the crew held all the equipment despite how everything was strapped into place, and she swayed.

"Wheel me into their room later, but right now, don't leave me."

"Never! You're my hero." She kissed his forehead. Today he'd saved her. She'd never leave him.

He mumbled, "I'm no one's hero."

On that he was wrong. Gabe Hawke was the best man she'd ever met.

# Chapter 10

The orderly brought Gabe back to his room for now with the promise he'd bring him the paperwork to go home within minutes. Now he'd find Megan and leave, but as the doors opened to his room, he saw both of his parents holding each other and resting on two chairs next to the window. The second he was wheeled closer to them, his parents stood.

If he didn't follow protocol at a hospital, they might not let him leave. Once the orderly left, he stood and hugged them both. "Mom, Dad. I'm okay."

His mother brushed her hands against his cheeks, but he stilled, and she checked his head and continued lower. She assessed him all the way down to his toes. "You just came out of surgery."

The bullet grazed him, so physically he was fine. Mentally, was another story. He needed to talk to Megan. Her brother triggered more memories that came to him hard on the drive. His pulse began to race again while he thought about her sweet face and how she was almost killed in this mess until he answered his parents, "I wasn't in surgery. It was a thorough examination."

"And?" His father placed his hand on his mother's shoulder and she stepped back.

He grabbed his ripped shirt from the bed and tugged it back on now, so no one else saw his scars. "And they are releasing me. I'm having you both moved to your home tomorrow with Harrison as your bodyguard."

His father said, "We can leave now. Maddox Murdock was arrested. We are free."

The police arrest should have satisfied him, but images of the desert while he struggled to get his USB from Maddox replayed in his mind. Again he saw in his mind's eye where Belle screamed to get Colt out of the wires, this time had even more faces in the moment. James and Harrison had fought a man clearly trained in martial arts who then disappeared. The memory then flashed to when Conner had pulled him out of the fire and the same time Conner screamed about Jax Romero.

More had happened out there that he pushed from his memory. All of this might affect his family. Until he figured everything out, his family needed protection. Hopefully he was just being overboard and his parents were right, but right now he needed to find Megan but he answered, "No. I don't want his lawyers to find out you're alive. Not yet."

His father patted his shoulder. "None of this matters, son. We have security. We will be fine."

No. Everyone in his family needed protection. He had to talk to his friends who were protecting them but most of all he had to ensure Megan was safe. "Humor me. Tomorrow, follow Harrison's instructions."

"What about you? Whose taking care of you when you get home?" his mother said while he finished with his shoe lace.

Megan's voice rang in the air. "I am."

Gabe jumped off the bed, but his heart thumped. She was here. She held a brown paper bag in her hand that must be her lunch. His lips ached to kiss her again and again.

But the moment lapsed and he glanced at the clock behind them. She was early, though with her here he felt a sense of belonging. "Megan, I thought you went to get lunch."

"I'm back." Her gaze narrowed at him and he felt like he said the absolute wrong thing. Then she shrugged and held out her hand to greet his father and mother. "Nice to see you both again."

"Nice to see you too." His mother ignored the handshake and hugged Megan. "Gabe hasn't looked at a woman like he looks at you before."

Megan swayed on her feet as the hug ended. "What do you mean?"

Gabe stepped closer to them and put his hand on Megan's back. "Mom!"

His mother winked and turned toward his father. "He likes you. It's good to see. We'll leave you both now."

Gabe's eyes widened.

His father kept his hand on his mother's back but met his gaze. "Don't worry son. Harrison ensured the public believes us to be out of the country on an extended holiday and he told your board of directors you went out of town on business."

Good. He trusted his friends and it was good they all remained underground.

Neither Megan or he moved until the door closed. Silence stayed for another few moments until Megan adjusted her brown paper bag with her lunch and the crinkle echoed in the room. She coughed and asked, "Why don't you want your parents to go home or talk to lawyers?"

He sat on the edge of the bed while his mind imagined how his parents were nearly gunned down in the middle of the street, again. He massaged his temples to make the image disappear but nothing did. In the corner of his vision he saw how Megan put her things down, smoothed out a wrinkle in her pants, and sat next to him. "They will. I just want to know they are safe. Once I hear them bickering about the same old things and they offer me a cup of coffee on a visit, I'll probably start to lose the knife I feel in my stomach every time I think they might have died on me."

She held still and though she sat close, she felt far away to him. He reached for her hand. She sighed and held him close. "My brother was wrong. If you don't want to see me anymore, I understand."

Now he grew cold at the idea she might leave him. He turned his good leg onto the bed and stared at her. "I thought you were taking care of me when I check out of here."

Megan reached for his hand, but the orderly who wheeled him here and returned in a huff and shuffled the paperwork from the nurse's station. Megan tugged her hand away and folded them in her arms while she looked at the linoleum floor.

Gabe stood and read the nurses papers. "Thanks."

The orderly left.

Without supervision, Gabe stood and offered his hand to Megan. She raised herself but locked her arms under his. "You're getting out?"

Good. When she was with him, the world was right. Now he needed to go home. "The bullet did not penetrate the skin. I was grazed and didn't need surgery."

"That's great." She reached out and opened the door. They walked in step to elevators and neither said anything with the crowd around them. Once the elevator arrived and they were alone, she shook her brown bag in her hand. "So why did you want me to go get lunch when the doctor arrived?"

The last time he saw a doctor about his burns, they told him it was time to leave the Marines. He had to face the doctor alone. All of that scared him. "I didn't want you to worry."

"I was more worried because you didn't want me here." She patted his arm.

"I wanted you." There was no one else in his life that made him feel complete. The past blurred, because his only focus was her. The elevator dinged and the doors were about to fly open as he asked, "Are you coming home with me?"

"Is that what you want?" The fluorescent lighting of the first floor flooded the elevator.

"Yeah."

They walked in step together but the moment they passed the emergency room he saw a skinny teenage boy with a fresh burn on his upper arm and a frantic mother who spoke to the nurse. His own scar felt the heat of what happened to him instantly.

Megan checked his forehead and with her palm on him, she stepped right in front of him. "Is everything okay?"

He needed her with him. The moment she lowered her hand, he reached out and pressed his forehead on hers. "We'll talk when we get home. I hate the sound of machines that make me feel like I'm sicker than I am."

"Is that because of what happened with my brother in the desert?"

"You've seen my sides and chest so you know I was burned."

Her gaze flickered to the boy and, during the moments until they passed she held her breath. Further away, she regrouped, laced her arm with his again and guided him to walk forward. He followed her directions. "Yeah, but I told you that your battle scars were sexy."

He led her and followed the exit signs. "It didn't feel sexy at the time and I hate hospitals."

"Then let's get you home."

Home was only good if she was there. "Megan, I've never met anyone like you. Don't change."

As they walked outside, he hailed his car service from work. At least being the CEO had perks and they didn't wait.

Seconds later, the driver was there and opened the black town car door for them. Megan scooted in. "We'll have to learn to live without the adrenaline rush that came from my brother and just be peaceful."

His usual methods with a woman were gifts and he'd take his physical pleasure. All of that seemed surface level compared to Megan, though he needed to be with her. He traced her leg while he whispered in her ear. "You'll have to learn what it's like to actually be mine."

A smile grew on her lips. "Now that sounds promising."

Agreed. He'd have to do whatever it took to ensure she was his. He'd not let her go.

# Chapter 11

During the car ride, Megan stayed close to Gabe but felt he had withdrawn. If they had a shot at happily-ever-after then he needed to speak, but she'd wait till they went home.

The rest of the ride was pleasant the moment he kissed the side of her face.

The car rolled to a smooth stop and the driver opened her door. She scooted out and waited for Gabe who led her into his building and up to his floor. As he opened the door, she saw that candles were lit and everywhere. She turned and saw that a meal was laid out on the table, and that a blue ball gown was hung on a mirror. She stepped back but noticed the bouquets of flowers. She placed her hand on her chest to stop her heart from racing and turned toward him. "What is all of this?"

He picked up a flower and handed it to her. "I wanted you to feel special."

He must have learned that move from a knight in an old movie. She put the flower into the vase he found, though her cheeks felt warm. "I don't need special. I want to know what's going on with you? In the hospital you were quiet and became less talkative."

He pointed with his nose to the flower petals on the floor that Anakin rolled around in. "Your cat likes the flowers."

Cute, but off topic. She reached out for his hand and led him to the couch. "Please, Gabe. What's going on?"

He sucked in his breath like he was about to dive into the ocean and wanted the air in his lungs. He took a second and then said, "I keep having more visions of what happened in the desert and I think your brother was part of the ambush."

Maddox. There was no excuse for what happened to his parents or if he was part of something years ago, no redemption might be found because he was lost even longer than she imagined. She rested her hand on his knee. "You think he betrayed you?"

He pressed his hands to his nose like he was in prayer. "He stole my USB, but I think it was coordinated with help. I was so focused on healing that I put everything out of my mind."

True, but he was in jail now and nothing was left. They were safe and it was time they moved on. Gabe seemed locked in a prison of his past. She had to choose her words carefully. She kept her voice low. "Glad you fixed everything. The man who joined the Marines and the man who came out were two different people. In your case I would say your character grew. For my brother, something snapped in him and he's not well."

He turned and she saw a storm of emotions flash in his blue eyes. Then he reached out and kissed her forehead. "I don't want to talk about him anymore with you."

Agreed. The topic was heavy and her lips craved his kiss. She adjusted her shirt. "Fair enough."

Without another word, he reached forward and claimed her mouth. She melted like butter left out in the humidity.

All she could do because thinking wasn't an option was curl into him and deepen their kiss.

However she wasn't a teenager and she wanted more. Her fingers curled under his shirt to touch him, but he reached out and stopped her. They both sat as he explained, "The scars on my body remind me every time I'm home alone that I'm not the same person and I've thought for years that I was ruined."

Ruined? Gabe? The thought was hysterical; he was perfect. She kept her hand near his body while he held her. "Are you joking? You're my hero and you are perfect."

"I'm not a hero." He shook his head, but slowly he relaxed his hold on her. "I am more at ease with you."

Denials never meant anything. He was her hero. She moved her hand and touched his stomach and changed course to rub his side with the scar. "Good because you asked me to be your girlfriend and I..."

He interrupted. "I asked you that because I was shy about saying _I love you_."

Seriously? Without a thought she said, "I love you too."

"Really?" His eyes widened, but his hands curled around her thighs.

Too much talking. She could smell home and wanted to be fully with him. "Kiss me, Gabe, and make me forget the rest of the world."

"Done." He said and kissed her again.

This time they needed no more words. His kiss set off a heat storm. All she wanted was him. To give him access to do whatever he wanted, she simply laid on the couch.

He brushed her hair out of the way while he continued to kiss her. Then he went lower and kissed her neck. Her shirt felt awkward and tight and in the way.

With a shift, she reached down to lift her shirt.

He moved his weight, but the moment she freed her belly, he planted kisses there.

The ache inside her understood that joining with him was all the medicine she needed.

Needy and wanting were never part of her normal. Now she was Gabe's and this had to last forever. Love won.

# Chapter 12

The next morning, she woke in his bed, curled into him. Last night had been taxing but delicious. Her body still had muscle memories of how good she felt and pleasure still raced throughout her body. She turned and gazed out the window. The blue ocean swelled with waves and her heart grew in rhythm.

Gabe shifted in the bed beside her. She flipped and stared at his Roman like nose and whispered, "Good morning."

"Morning." He reached out and tugged her closer.

Without a word, she snuggled into his chest. She licked her lips as she tasted him there. "So how do we begin a simple day together?"

His eyes widened. "I don't know about simple, but I was hoping you'd move in here, permanently."

"That fast?" Her pulse began to race though she knew she was safe.

"I want to ask you to marry me, but that might be too fast, so I was thinking of a way to slow down but still keep you close."

Marry? To stay with Gabe forever gave her a place where she belonged. Her eyelashes fluttered but she pulled away. "That's sweet, but I think..."

"Yeah?" He leaned forward and his head joined her pillow.

She opened her eyes and sat. "Fiancée is a nicer word than roommate."

He pushed up and sat next to her but a smile slowly appeared on his face. "It is. If I bought a ring, would you say yes?"

Everything was perfect in the sunlight. She turned toward him. "Why don't you try and ask without it? Don't be shy."

"I'm not shy and you're right." He then took her hands in his.

This was it. Her heart raced. "I am?"

"Will you marry me?" The words came out of his lips.

"Yes." An explosion of the same word reverberated through her. She was his. Forever. With Gabe, she had a home and a happily-ever-after.

_Thank you for reading._ I hope you enjoyed Gabe and Megan's story as I did. The next story in the series is Scarlett and James's tale. Scarlett needs a fake husband and James is not telling her he's actually a billionaire . Order Tempting James NOW.

Or you can start Hidden Alphas, also just in Kindle Unlimited where Erica crashes into Gabriel's private chalet, changing his life forever and solving a bit of a mystery of what's going on in his house and life in the process. This book, Hidden Gabriel, won Scout in 2016.

Another option is Favorite Crush where Penny refuses to be anything like her gold digging mother and is all about being a smart engineer, and almost misses out on her chance at love with billionaire Jay Marshall in Favorite Crush.

And to find out about new books, sign up for my newsletter: <https://victoriapinder.com>

# Irresistibly Lost

Please check out the entire Brothers-in-Revenge Series and get caught up.

Brothers in Revenge Prequel

Irresistibly Lost (FREE if you sign up for my newsletter)

Irresistibly Found

Brothers in Revenge

Irresistibly Charming

Irresistibly Tough

Irresistibly Played

Irresistibly Rugged

Irresistibly Strong

Irresistibly Dashing

Sienna McKenney's idea of the perfect single-woman vacation included her ereader stocked with the latest mystery novels, poolside cabana service and a suite overlooking the clear, aqua ocean where she might see dolphins swim past from her balcony in the early morning.

No men, no fuss, just relaxing.

Which is why she'd booked herself a luxury room on Hidden Key, far from the community in Park Lake, Florida where everybody wanted to introduce her to a cousin or brother. She'd driven down to the Keys, parked her car and hopped on board the ferry.

Within hours, the boat docked. The moon beamed across the cloudless night sky, and she smelled the salt in the air as tourists from all over the country passed her. The ship lightly rocked and the tropical breeze against her skin made her feel calm. Her heart and mind cleared. Tomorrow she'd spend the day reading at one of those tropical cabanas near the pool.

She followed the crowd at the end and walked silently toward the white hotel with an orange roof.

Before even stepping foot inside, her shoulders slumped at the sound of light reggae music from the pool area. One ruined wedding did not mean she deserved anyone's pity.

She adjusted her sunglasses as she strolled up the pathway and walked with the group of three female friends already sharing a bottle of wine and one older couple from the ferry as they made their way toward the towering beachfront hotel, the only thing on this small remote island in the Keys.

As she walked inside the Tropical Nights hotel, a blast of cold air brushed against her skin. The hair on her arms lifted with goosebumps. Air conditioning? No...something else. She dragged her bag behind her through the lobby and lifted her head, meeting the brown eyes of the one man she was supposed to hate.

Her pulse spiked and she wasn't sure if it was anger or because she still yearned for him, even now, when he'd broken her heart.

Sienna parked her suitcase by the white chairs and stomped toward him, the soles of her tennis shoes gaining traction on the white marble floor. She brought her hand to her chest and held it close, like she needed to defend herself, though she'd come to him.

The man, seated, long legs crossed, hid behind a newspaper. She dropped her hand to her side. How was this possible?

Dark hair trimmed short was visible over the paper, his elegant body clad in a tailored black suit, the white cuffs of his shirt crisp. She'd know him anywhere and she'd recognized those brown eyes on her—they were burned in her memory. "Aaden?"

His glanced at her and his face paled. The newspaper in his hands fell to the floor beside him and he stood, taller than her by a foot. He'd been working out in the past two years since their would-be wedding day, his biceps muscled beneath his suit jacket.

With a white face and lips pressed together, she knew he was trying to think his way out of this, but instead he said, "Can I help you, miss?"

_Miss_? He had a lot of nerve. She took off her sunglasses and crossed her arms, wishing she'd worn a business suit or something powerful instead of her stupid yellow sundress with a flower pattern. She tapped her foot. "Aaden Bentley. Am I dreaming?"

He tossed his head back like she'd slapped him, which she probably should have, but then he said, "You must be mistaken."

Of all the... Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, but she lifted her chin. No, she'd not cry for him. He'd left that stupid note and disappeared. She grabbed his white shirt, unbuttoned the top two buttons and shook her head as she pointed to the arrow with his mother's name on it. "Jasmine. Same tattoo."

He tugged his shirt closed at the neck, but his face was bright red rather than white. "I don't remember where I got this."

The Aaden she'd loved would never have erased his mother's name which he'd always said reminded him that life had both good and bad qualities. She'd read in the newspaper a few months ago that his parents had died, which meant he'd just see the good now in the woman who had hated her.

Sienna ignored the rising heat in her veins from touching him and stepped back. His disappearance and denial of their life together should make her turn on her heels but she didn't move. Once she caught her breath she said, "Aaden, I don't care about what happened anymore. You made your choice, but why did you leave me on our wedding day? I was humiliated and hurt. You never told me you were unhappy. You just disappeared."

He finished with the last button and didn't look at her. "I don't know what you're talking about, miss."

The rise in her temperature made sense—he'd always inflamed her passion. Even now, the truth wasn't something he'd part with. She'd loved a fool and knew it, which said more about her than she liked to admit.

When they'd dated, and he'd stood up to his mother, claiming that Sienna was better than he deserved, she'd felt bathed in eternal sunshine. But then everything ended so fast. She glared at him and didn't care that her voice rose. "Aaden, I don't know why you're lying but I'm not going anywhere without an answer. It's not a coincidence we're at this hotel together, is it?"

His gaze shifted to the other people lobby, then he reached for her suitcase and tugged on it. "I see. Come with me to the pool, miss. We'll talk in private."

If he chose the venue, it meant he thought he had power. This was exactly like how he'd dated her in high school, by constantly showing up where she went until she agreed to join him on whatever plan he had for them. But she glanced around the hotel and saw the three women from the ferry watching her now. She lowered her gaze and nodded. She wasn't big on everyone staring at her either. She shrugged and let her sneakers squeak against the marble as she followed him toward the pool. "Fine. Why not? Let's go."

He walked her to one of the private pool cabanas she'd intended to read in this week. As he held the white cloth for her to go inside, he said, "I don't know who Aaden Bentley is."

Inside the cabana, the thick white fabric gently floated in the wind, but no one would see them.

Fire burned in her soul as she whipped around and met his dark gaze. "Stop joking, all the time and be serious for once. We're clearly alone now."

His pursed lips infuriated her, and her blood boiled. If she didn't stop him, he'd lie again. So, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss her.

Her left leg went up as steam grew in her veins.

For one second, she was still the girl who'd loved him and then the bride he'd jilted.

Unshed tears threatened to form.

No. She pushed him off her and forced her hands to go to her side. She'd never cry for Aaden again.

A smirk grew on his face as he stared at her and said, "Wow. Sienna."

"Oh, my name from your lips. Shocker." There was no question now, not that there ever had been. But he wasn't going to pull his "it wasn't me" nonsense anymore. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin. "And you're definitely Aaden, the deserter. What happened?"

His jaw clenched as he stepped back at her jab. "Sienna, I can't. I deserve that and more, but you shouldn't be here."

Her gaze speared him with victory and she knew it. She'd revel in this feeling because for two years she'd been empty and alone, with no answers. He'd always liked her hair so she loosened it now and let the soft brown waves fall to her shoulders. "So you do remember me, and how you never showed up."

He closed his eyes, like the sight of her burned him. "Sienna McKenney."

Aaden still kissed like the man she loved—but could never have. His royal family hated her and refused to allow their prince to marry a commoner. Finally, they'd won. She needed a cold shower, now, but she also needed to hear the truth and not just assume anymore. She controlled the trembles he caused in her body. "Look, just tell me why you walked out on me. I'll leave you alone and never bother you again."

Lightning sparked in his brown eyes. It was the same lightning she'd seen when his mother had called her a horrible choice for him. That night he'd apologized, but now... he shouldn't get to look tortured. This wasn't fair.

His voice went low. "Sienna, I wanted to marry you that day."

"But?" She steeled her spine for the truth after two long and painful years.

He slumped onto the lounge chair and massaged his temples. "Marrying you was my only goal." He placed his hands on the low table before him and seemed to study them. When he looked up he said, "I witnessed an international murder—I am in the witness protection program."

Great. So much for the truth. She wanted to knock him off that chair and onto the ground, but she was a lady and not strong enough anyhow. Instead she pulled up the seat next to him and sat like she was the queen and he the servant as she glanced down her nose. "You're such a joker, all the time, and you aren't even that good at it. You never were, so I'm not leaving until I get the truth."

"It's the truth." His voice held a rumble.

"Sure, it is." She crossed her legs and sat back, not caring that her calves were more noticeable.

The truth shouldn't be impossible and would probably set her free to never think about him, ever again.

"Actually, I did." He rested his elbow on his knee and finally held her gaze. "My parents." His eyes held a gleam of sadness.

Her heart fell to her stomach and her body didn't move.

She remembered reading about his parents' death and thinking the report seemed strange. "Oh."

He sat straight, and his tailored gray pants brushed against her bare knee when he turned toward her, the fabric soft as silk. "Sienna, I should have called you. I wanted to keep you safe far more than marry you."

His parents had died a year after their almost wedding. She moved her legs, so they didn't touch, but she leaned closer to really look at him. Why a year without contacting her? She needed to shut up and listen. "Oh good, the truth now without trying to quell with humor."

He reached for her hand like he had any right to touch her, but then again, she didn't swat him away. "My father offered me ten million dollars to walk away from you."

His family was related to Middle Eastern royalty and incredibly rich. His father paying him off hurt but was what she'd guessed. Hearing that part didn't make her feel anything but empty. She took her hand back and nodded as she stood. "As I thought."

He rose as well, blocking her path to the cabana's fabric door. "It was the stupidest decision I ever made."

Her heart melted at the catch in his voice. She maneuvered around him—angry and in control. She refused to let him see her tremble or cry. "Why did you take the money in the end?"

He didn't move, and his white shirt brushed against her bare arms, leaving goosebumps until he took her hand. "Because I knew you'd be better off without me. Did you go to medical school?"

"No." She took her hands out of his and stared at them. Once upon a time, she'd given him everything. He'd been her first and greatest love, but his rejection had shattered her heart worse than thrown glass. She let out a small sigh. "I gave up on that dream years ago."

"In two years? And I thought I was the joker in the relationship." He kept his voice low but stayed beside her. "What happened to you then?"

All he ever gave her was jokes and promises that he never fulfilled. He deserved pay-back. She lifted her eyebrow and didn't blink at all as she said, "I had your baby."

"What?" He stumbled back, the color draining from his face.

She laughed without humor. She'd scored a hit, but it didn't feel good to hurt him as he'd hurt her. "That was mean and untrue. I don't like that you constantly joke around when I sometimes feel lied to."

His hand covered his heart like he'd been shocked. "You scared me."

Good. Then she had one second of vengeance though it was petty and mean. She shrugged. "Well, think about how I felt that day and what just happened in the lobby."

He lowered his head and said quietly, "I'm sorry."

Those were the two words she'd wanted to hear for two years now. She nodded and accepted his apology. She could go home, or she could prove to her heart that her feelings for him were over. Sienna slid past the white curtain, and walked back to the lobby, finding her luggage where she'd left it by the white chairs. Now she'd check into her room and forget all about Aaden Bentley. He followed her but wasn't as fast. "It's fine." Someday she'd like the truth.

"Sienna, you haven't told me what you do." Aaden's voice called behind her.

Seriously? He'd broken her heart and the only reason they spoke now was blind, dumb luck. She glanced over her shoulder as she tugged up the handle on her luggage. "Oh, well, tell you what—if you can prove to me I should forgive you for breaking my heart, then I'll let you know more about me." Would he stick around or run?

She swayed her hips as she walked toward the check-in counter.

"How about instead I give you an opportunity to earn ten million dollars?"

Sienna stopped and stared at him, her hand on her hip. Had he lost his mind?

He headed back to the privacy of the cabana and waved her in. Controlling the situation, or trying to, as usual. He'd taken ten million to break her heart.

"Come back inside." She rolled her suitcase behind her and reached the gauzy curtain. "First tell me why you listened to your mother and took the money."

He pulled her all the way inside. She released the handle and tied the fabric, enclosing them. He was going to try and buy her? This time she hoped to hear the truth. She wasn't in her room with a book as planned. Instead, somehow, she was here, with Aaden. She turned around and ignored the goosebumps on her arms as she met his brown eyes. "Okay, now tell me."

"Two years ago when we were going to get married, my mother told me that there was a growing threat by someone from my country named Mustafa Attajanazi. He and his group intended to kill everyone in my family and that would include you if I went through with _my threat_ and married _a commoner_."

"That is how your mother spoke." Sienna swallowed, remembering his mother's voice and opinion like it was yesterday. "You must have believed her."

Aaden fell onto the nearest chair and didn't look up. "Yes and leaving the only good woman I'd ever met was the hardest thing I've ever done."

Her body trembled. This time she believed him. She pressed her palm to his shoulder and sighed. Now she could let the past go. "So. The ten million is the blood money that was used to have you walk away from me?"

He nodded and stood to emphasize his word. "Yes."

"What do I have to do?" She wasn't really interested, she told herself. _Liar._ Ten million dollars would set her up for life. She'd buy a condo and have a retirement package. It wasn't a bad number for bandaging up her broken heart and forgiving him, which supposedly was good for the soul.

He motioned for her to come back and sit down. She tapped her finger to her leg. If she went, she showed she was interested. She gave him power. But if she didn't, then she'd never know what happened next when she no longer hated him.

She bit her lip and then decided to sit on the chair opposite him. It wouldn't hurt to just hear what he had to say.

He took the seat opposite her but kept at least two feet between them. "First, tell me what you do now?"

One Google search about her would answer that question. He'd grown up in the same town she was still in. Florida was a place people settled, even if they had no intention of it. She ignored the knot in her stomach and tried to sound proud as she lifted her chin. "I work as a secretary at Parker High."

For a third time, his face went white. "Like your mother?"

"With my mother," she corrected. Her mother didn't have enough to retire so she still worked, though arthritis hurt her legs when she stood to fill out the attendance forms.

"And this is March." He clearly calculated. "So this is the spring break for you? No wonder you booked a room—you're on vacation."

"Wait, you knew I'd be here?" They'd gone to the same high school so of course he remembered the schedule. They'd met in middle school to be truthful though he was one of the cool kids and she'd been the nerdy, quiet girl. He'd wanted to copy her homework, and she'd said yes, and that had been the beginning of their attraction. "So you searched for me after all?"

"I paid a detective and waited here all day to see you." He reached for her hand. She didn't pull away, mostly because her heart thumped, and she couldn't believe this was her reality. "Sienna, for ten million dollars, I need you to be my wife for the rest of the school year and summer. It has to be you."

She squeezed his hand and her entire body felt heavier, like a heavenly weight pushed down on her shoulder and didn't want to let her go. She closed her eyes. "Your wife? I was going to be that for free years ago."

He scooted closer, his breath warm on her face. "That's why it has to be you now."

If she said yes, did this mean she was a sucker? Was this another game of his where he'd leave her broken-hearted—or stand her up at the end? She foolishly hadn't taken her hand back yet. Somehow, she needed more proof that there really had been a threat against the family. She swallowed and avoided his gaze. "And you're ready now? Or is there another reason? Why less than a year?"

He kissed her cheek, like she'd already accepted. "I'll draw up a check for half now, the rest after the time is up. This way, even if something happens to me, you can protect yourself. Meet me in the lobby in an hour?"

How did he still know how to pull her strings? She blinked as he stood. She rose. "Is this Mustafa guy still a threat to you?"

He held her hands near her heart. "I think he ultimately killed my parents." His expression darkened. "It wouldn't take much for anyone researching me to find my one weakness."

"Which is?"

"You. It's always been you."

Drat. Her lips shouldn't tingle, and her body shouldn't tremble. She knew this, but she couldn't stop herself. "Why marry me now when you wouldn't marry me then?"

He traced her face and she felt awareness of him growing over her like a cloud. "Because when I was twenty, my father could scare me and make me think not marrying you protected you. That was stupid of me. I can offer you protection, and show you how to protect yourself, with money."

The former princes were foreign sheiks and lived in the multimillion-dollar section of town—after years of working and living there, she wasn't intimidated. Two years ago, she'd been devastated, but now she lifted her eyebrow. "Is there a threat against me? I've not seen anything at school."

"I got sloppy. It's why I was watching you when you walked into the hotel. I needed to make sure you weren't followed." He took a deep breath, brushed his hand on her arm leaving a trail of goosebumps, and then leaned his head closer to hers. "Two weeks ago my computer was hacked and some of the emails now mention you're in danger and besides I don't inherit most of my father's estate until I get married."

He hadn't mentioned another woman and her heart clung to the omission. She pushed a wayward hair out of her eyes and met his gaze. "And why for six months?"

He gently squeezed her arm and she felt herself bend, wishing for him. "Because I need time for the court to finalize the will, but once that is over we can go our separate ways and you'll have the money to ensure your safety." He tugged on a curl at her collarbone. "I know you must hate me."

No, she didn't. For the past two years no one noticed her except to complain about something at work. Aaden made her feel alive. She put her lips together in a pout, studying him. Two years had made him look sexier. His forehead pressed to hers was familiar and made her pulse speed up. But she'd never expected to marry for money, even if it was to protect her from some unknown threat. If she said yes, it was because she wanted to let Aaden back in her heart. She took a deep breath and finally answered him. "I'm only saying yes because I need to ensure my mother can retire. I will buy us both condos."

"So you'll meet me in an hour in the lobby?" He stepped back, and his eyes seemed bright with electricity. "I'll have the chapel booked by then."

"Sounds like a plan." She should say no and run for the next ferry. However a part of her wanted to know if he'd show up. A huge part of her actually. She must be a fool for agreeing, but she would wait to see what he did next. She'd survived the first time she'd worn a white dress and he hadn't shown. She'd survive this too.

Aaden Bentley had no right to Sienna. Despite that, he dressed carefully for her in a light gray suit and new clean white shirt, ready for their wedding he'd planned in the hotel chapel three hours from now.

For the ceremony two years ago, Sienna had picked out a darker gray tux, but this was the closest he had and he'd told her the whole truth in the end. He'd hoped before they talked that he'd keep any threats against her a secret, but she had a right to know everything.

This time his parents weren't here to stop him, and his brother and sister had their own pasts to deal with in case Mustafa Attajanazi came after one of them before they inherited.

Sienna had character and strength that was far above his and it was her confidence in her morals that had always drawn him to her, even today. When they were in high school, she made him sit next to a kid being bullied so no one picked on a boy she hadn't even known. And now that boy was an up and coming actor, if his pilot for television was bought.

Aaden ignored his own morals which whispered that he should leave her alone and not expect anything from Sienna beyond the contract. He needed to protect her, and that was all he could offer her now. Her simple, no-lipstick smile made him ache to kiss her.

The past two years had made her more of an earthly angel and him more the devil. She'd finished getting her degree at FIU and moved back home with her mother, when most people their age run away from their parents.

Listening to his parents talk about a royal past that was no longer relevant and their different religions when he didn't even believe in religion at all somehow broke his hope that Sienna might accept him again, even after they died. Their voices came to him so strongly still when he least expected it, but thankfully they were wrong. He found his paisley blue and gray tie and fixed it around his neck. This was the best he could do to recreate their ruined wedding.

Done, he left his room and waited in the lobby with the cashier's check of five million dollars, every penny he had until his lawyer released the funds, now had Sienna's name on it.

His entire body stilled. If he lost everything, Sienna deserved to twist the knife in his no-good heart.

Aaden waited in the lobby, standing like a nervous groom. The elevator doors opened, and his heart nearly stopped as Sienna walked out in an emerald green dress that went to her knees. The color made her skin glow brighter and show off the natural blush of her cheeks. He strode toward her and took her hand. "You aren't wearing white."

She stepped back and smoothed the waist on her dress. "Was I supposed to?"

His lawyer was handling all of the details. All Sienna had to say was _yes_ and his money would be evergreen though in divorce he'd lose the royal title he never used anyhow. Not that he'd tell her that. Instead he walked her toward the shop in the lobby, still holding her hand. "Yes, let's get you something here, before we go."

She stopped at the door to the boutique and stared at him like he wasn't to be trusted. "Do you have the money?"

Greed wasn't something he associated her with, but then again, he'd hurt Sienna and never looked back. If she'd changed, it was his fault. He took a deep breath, winked at her, and said, "Yes, I have it. I'll give you the check, when we sign the documents. My lawyer is on his way to meet you."

She winced and headed toward the dress section and sorted through the selection on the rack. "You really want me to wear white? Last time I bought a wedding dress, it ended badly, and I didn't want to remind either of us of that."

Sienna had no idea just how much he hated his parents for the past two years or how empty his entire existence became except for finding and stopping Mustafa, freeing he and his siblings of danger. Even angry, Sienna brought life back into his dreary world. He perused the dresses he knew Sienna would never wear because she never saw her curves as beautiful. "For both of us. This is a new beginning."

"And saves you." She lifted a white dress with a less plunging neckline and then returned it when she saw that it would reach the top of her thigh. "How much do you stand to inherit?"

He rested his hand on her shoulder and swept her long, brown hair to the side. If any woman deserved happiness, it was Sienna. She smelled like vanilla and cinnamon which was exactly what she tasted like and she didn't even cook much. "Ten billion," he whispered, "plus controlling shares in their oil business. My brother, Jordan, would get ten billion as well, and my sister, Arwa, is set to get two and a half billion."

She lowered her head. "Ten million isn't much to you then."

"It's all I lived on for two years. I am giving you everything I have right now." Her head snapped higher, fast.

"But truthfully," Aaden admitted, "I'd rather my parents were still alive, so I could push their buttons."

"What do you know happened to them?" She brushed against his shoulder like she'd hug him but changed her mind.

She picked up a slinky fringed sheath that was more for dancing than marriage. He handed her another and their hands brushed against each other.

He kept his voice low. Murder wasn't something he wanted to discuss in public, but Sienna needed to know everything. "Boating accident, though the police had suspicions that someone tampered with their engine. No one cared about the threats from Mustafa Attajanazi as he wasn't in the US at the time, but he'd published pictures in a local newspaper in Hoskel that proved he ordered everything."

Her lips didn't quite close as she stared at him with soft brown eyes. "That's horrible. I'm sorry."

What was horrible was that he hadn't bothered to see them before they'd died. Their last conversation was how they'd ruined his life—he'd refused to talk to them for their interference. Sienna would never understand. In a cold voice he asked, "Why? They were never nice to you."

Her eyes expressed her agreement until she ducked her head. Sienna never had a poker face. She slid a hanger to the side and he realized she was grouping possible dresses to the left. "Your mom was shocked when I said no to the money they offered me to walk away from you."

The opposite of him. They imposed so much guilt on his family honor and name and when that didn't work, they used his love for Sienna as a reason he needed to leave her alone. Sienna never had anyone suppressing her own desires, but he traced her cheek. Until his parents were killed, he hadn't wanted to believe they'd been right.

He just needed Sienna to be safe. Once she divorced him, that meant he'd never inherit. He'd be written out of the royal chain and so would Sienna. It was the best plan he had. Her skin was soft and sweet. "You were always stronger than me."

She made a sound that wordlessly said yes. She looked at the dresses one more time and simply said, "They did offer you more money."

Was she joking? "If my parents upped their offer, would you have taken the money?"

She shrugged and wouldn't look at him. "Then, no." She turned and met his eyes. "Now that I know you'd break my heart..."

She didn't need to finish that sentence. He'd been stupid enough to leave her. He kissed her forehead. "I always admired you for your strength of character. It's something I never had."

She hugged him despite the dress hangers in her hand. "Why do you still lie to yourself about stuff like that? You never once in your life cared what people thought about you. It was why you even noticed me in the first place because I wasn't exactly popular."

"But you were sweetest woman I ever met. That doesn't make me strong." He eyed her pile of white dresses and put his favorite for her on the top. She went to the changing room and he found a seat near the door.

"When I come out, I want you to list just one of your many good qualities, Aaden."

For the next few minutes he thought about how best to answer her question. Protecting her was because he let her name be known to the people who killed his parents. This didn't make it honorable. Leaving her without explanation made him a horrible choice for her too. If he told anyone only truth, even Sienna, he'd never have a friend or even a potential lover because he really had no redeeming qualities unless he counted joking his way out of any situation.

Marrying Sienna today made him want a wedding night that he'd been denied—that they'd each been denied. And every cell in his brain knew he shouldn't. The divorce would save her, not the marriage.

Sienna came out in a floor-length Greek-style gown of lightweight material, the bare shoulders was perfect for the tropics and made her seem like a goddess. It was the one he'd chosen for her. "Perfect."

"So keep?" She asked without looking at him. Her cheeks were red.

He nodded, and his skin buzzed with the need to touch her, though he knew he shouldn't.

She let out a sigh, glanced up to look at him, but then nodded. "Okay. Since this isn't a long-term wedding or anything, we won't talk about bad luck—I'll wear this."

She went inside and changed. However as she came out in her pretty green dress, he took the white one from her and walked toward the cashier. "We can talk about that kiss you laid on me an hour ago."

If she was safer leaving him then no more spine-tingling kisses. She tasted too sweet and tempting otherwise.

The saleswoman put the garment in a plastic bag as Sienna laughed out loud. "The one designed for you to tell me the truth?"

"Are you saying you didn't feel anything?" He handed over his credit card to the saleslady. It would be easier if she didn't care anymore.

She crossed her arms. "I'm not saying anything."

Not good. He needed to convince her to leave, not think this was a real marriage for long term. He knew her better than he knew himself in some ways, and if she married him, she'd want forever. How many times had she said she only ever wanted one marriage in her life? He remembered that conversation from the high school lunch table to the time they could drink wine at a Christmas party. He signed for the dress and handed Sienna the bag.

Once they were done, he waved at the man waiting for them in the lobby, in the same seats he'd waited in to see Sienna again. With her on his arm, he felt whole, but once the six months ended, he'd have to force her to leave him again. Heaven, and hell. He guided Sienna toward the seats without explaining his feelings and said, mostly to invoke her defense mechanisms. "Before we reach my lawyer," he whispered, "I should mention I intend to seduce you during this marriage of ours."

She slowed her pace and stared at him. "Guess I have something to look forward to tonight."

He swallowed, unsure what he could do to convince her to stay married but in her own room. Soon, she'd see he meant his casual comment. His lawyer pulled one of the side tables usually used to hold alcoholic drinks in front of him, and now had manila envelopes and his briefcase set up. "I was trying to get you to be wary of my intentions."

"Aaden, we'll talk tonight, after the wedding." He held her seat for her and she took it. Once she sat he joined her, but she said, "And you'll find I'm not a fool, not anymore when it comes to you."

Instead of responding, he motioned toward his twenty-something lawyer, who had light brown hair and blue eyes and wore a store-bought suit that was slightly too big. "This is my lawyer, Donovan Johnson."

She shook his hand and stressed her name. "Mr. Johnson, it's nice to meet you. I'm Sienna McKenney. Aaden Bentley never had manners."

Johnson sat back in his seat and opened a manila folder, scanning a stack of papers. He then handed Sienna the wedding contract. "Mr. Bentley said you almost married him two years ago, but his parents interfered. You're willing to marry him now?"

She glanced at the prenuptial that granted her far more than he'd offered, though that wasn't on page one. Aaden wanted her to live in luxury and safety even after she left him—and he knew she would. She took the pen that Johnson offered and initialed. "That about sums it up. Aaden left me at the chapel and never showed up to marry me. Guess you can call me a glutton for punishment."

She wasn't reading, just signing.

He had no right for her to trust him like this. Getting her to leave him was going to be hard.

Aaden put his hand on the papers to stop her from just signing without reading. Johnson must have seen the same thing with her actions because he said, "Please read the prenup." Johnson turned toward him and coughed. "Mr. Bentley, Miss McKenney was specifically mentioned in your parents' will."

Aaden sat up in alarm. "You never mentioned her."

Johnson shrugged and took out an envelope with his name written in his mother's handwriting as he said, "You never mentioned there was a chance you'd marry her until last night when you told me to draw up the papers."

Aaden stared at it and half-wondered if this was some trick. He didn't move to take the envelope but asked, "What did it say?"

Johnson waved the letter and envelope at him like he should take it. "Here. I'll let you read it yourself."

Aaden accepted the sealed envelope. He ripped it open and read his mother's words.

Sienna finished signing her papers. "What does it say, Aaden?"

His heart caved in his chest. How he wished he'd at least spoken to his mother one more time; her words on the page were unreal. How could it be? He tipped the envelope and two bands fell into his palm.

He recognized his mother's tone as he held the rings his grandmother had left him to give his bride. Back then his mother had refused to give him even that, but now with a letter from beyond the grave, she was trying to make amends? He swallowed, believing every word. He put the letter down and met Sienna's gaze. "That they were sorry they interfered and that they are happy for us now."

Unshed tears welled in her eyes. Sienna always had a soft heart when it came to family. She put the pen down and said, "Seriously? Can I read it?"

"Here." He waited until she handed the prenup to Johnson and then she reached for the letter in his hand. He remained quiet as Sienna read his mother's apology. Today seemed almost surreal and as soon as they married, it would be even more. When she finished, she smiled at him, gave him back the letter and said, "Aaden, this letter is super nice of them."

He folded it and put it in the envelope and then tucked it in his back pocket. He stood and ignored his lawyer as he offered his hand to Sienna. "Doesn't matter. Let's get to the chapel as planned."

"Wait." She stood on her own but then stared at him instead of moving. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Right. Now he needed to pay her back the blood money he'd received for leaving her. At least now it was a way to protect her, so it was a start to helping him forgive his own past. He took that envelope out of his breast pocket inside his light gray suit. "Oh, here is your first half."

She took it without looking at it but she stared at him. "That wasn't what I meant but thank you."

Again, he tried to walk but she stood still and right in path he intended to lead her. So he stopped and asked, "What did you mean then?"

She motioned toward the lawyer who was cleaning up the contracts and pressed against his hands that held the gold bands. "They left us their rings. I think you...we can use them today, like your mother planned."

"After she tried to stop us." Right. Part of the old crown jewels from when his family actually ruled anything. He put them in his pocket. This changed the simple gold bands he'd bought to use at the chapel, and his pocket felt like it burned with his grandmother's rings that he'd asked for years ago. Sienna's bright smile kept him grounded, but he adjusted his suit pocket to include his mother's words and the family rings. Once he felt they were secure inside his person and didn't just fall away, like what he expected Sienna to do to his heart six months from now, he said to his lawyer, "Thanks."

Johnson stood, his papers in order. "I'll get to filing the updates. Please message me with a copy of your wedding certificate."

"Done," Aaden promised. Marrying Sienna was a business deal. He knew better than to hope for more.

This time when he guided Sienna away, she walked beside him. As they neared the chapel door, he leaned own and whispered in her ear. "Tonight, I'm going to need you to be the strong one. Keep the door closed, Sienna."

"Sure, sure, whatever you say." She winked like his words were a joke, but she followed him inside, pointed toward a bridal dressing room and held up her new dress. "Be right back."

Fair enough. How to convince her that this wedding was in name only? Somehow, he needed to resist her. He waited till she closed the door and then went to pay for the wedding package. This was one hundred percent legal, and he'd enjoy the perks of finally getting what he wanted. Sienna for the next few months as his wife. Now he just needed to convince her to leave him once the will requirements were met and she had the means to protect herself.

"I do." The words swirled in her head as Sienna answered the question of "do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

For as long as she remembered she'd imagined her wedding and the vows written to epitomize the moment of complete love and joy. Now that moment had come and gone, and she'd just repeated the words.

Aaden said the same thing. Tonight, he was right. They needed to really talk.

The wedding was like a dream come true, all said at sunset on this tropical island. Not even in her dreams had she imagined that much sparkling ocean from the setting sun outside.

Aaden's arms slipped around her waist. Sienna sighed as he pulled her closer and the justice of the peace said, "You may kiss the bride."

This was it. They were now married. She closed her eyes and her lips puckered.

A millisecond later his lips met hers and fireworks she'd not experienced in years rushed through her.

He still kissed like he could shoot her straight to heaven itself.

His strong arms kept her grounded, though in the bared shouldered dress she wore, she felt almost naked already in his arms. As the kiss ended, she held onto his waist for support and whispered, "Aaden, I'm slightly scared. I don't want us to make mistakes."

"Don't be." He picked her up, carrying her as he walked out of the chapel. "We'll figure this out."

He didn't stop as they crossed the lobby and he headed straight to the elevator banks.

She scooted out of his arms and tested her legs as they waited to get inside the elevator. Luckily the doors opened, and he pressed the button for the penthouse. Her heart raced as the doors closed, leaving them alone. Finally, she broke the silence and said, "All my life, I wanted you and now we're married. Aaden, I..."

She wasn't sure how she'd say what was in her heart. Would she tell him that she'd always loved him while they were inside the elevator to their room? No. She could wait two minutes and do it without security cameras listening to them.

He winked at her like he knew what she'd say already as he said, "Let's go to the wedding suite I booked for us."

She closed her eyes and hoped her heart calmed down. This was crazy. When she remembered how, for the past two years, just how lifeless her world was without him and how lonely she'd been, her heart caved. No. This time she'd tell him how she felt and hope he felt the same. "What if I'd chosen a different hotel a few months ago? None of this would be possible."

"My detectives were looking for you. It wasn't hard to find out where you'd go." He took her hands. "Besides, don't think about the what if, Sienna, because I can imagine worst case scenarios." His lips met hers again and for that moment, she couldn't imagine or think of anything. As his kiss ended, it took her mind a minute to understand his words. "My biggest regret is not marrying you the last time I had the opportunity." Everything he said came back to her as he put his arms under her knees and picked her up. "But that just ended. Let's go inside."

The penthouse would unlock with his card so he juggled holding her while getting it until she reached into his pocket and took it out. She swiped it open. Once inside he set her down near the door, and guided her to the window with the expansive ocean view.

She glanced to the hall closet and saw her suitcase brought by the staff per her request She twirled around the room and gazed out toward the huge moon that seemed to float above the ocean.

The twinkling stars gave the view an almost magical feeling. She scooted closer to the only man she'd ever wanted and ran her hand down his side. "This is beautiful, Aaden."

His lips tightened as he stared at her. "You deserve better."

"I only wanted you." Even more important to her right now was her new husband. She tugged on his belt buckle and directed him toward the living area. As she sat on the couch, he joined her and sat beside her. She slipped off her shoes. Danger didn't matter if she had to live without him again. She let out a breath and said, "Aaden, I need to say something you might not like."

"Okay, what?"

Right. No words about his feelings had been said and she tried to ignore the warning in her veins. The white pillows of the couch cushioned her, but the bright lights of the chandelier above them partially put her under a spotlight. She swallowed and wished for candlelight, but that wasn't to be.

Sienna took his hand so he didn't get the wrong idea—that she didn't want him—but she had to start at the beginning and share her feelings, about him, and this marriage and what she wanted in the future.

"Part of me hated you. When I saw you sitting there, part of me wanted to run out the door and not speak to you, ever again."

"I'd have deserved that." He nodded like he accepted what she had to say without question and he simply moved his leg on the cushion, comfortable and at ease. Instead of arguing or coming up with some crazy story of his, he asked, "What stopped you?"

But now the hard part began. It took her a second to feel confidence flow in her bloodstream, but then she nodded. It was time to tell the whole truth. "I stayed because I fell in love with you as a girl and that trumped everything else." Her heart beat raced. "Despite everything, I still love you."

His body tensed. She continued, "It's why I married you today. I don't want a divorce. I just want you."

He cupped her face in his hand and stared down at her until she looked up at him. He kissed her other cheek. "Sienna, I didn't marry you for the money. I married you to keep you safe. We will hire security because it's obvious to everyone how I feel about you."

Stillness grew in every cell of her body. And she couldn't move, even if she wanted to This wasn't what she expected. _Was she even breathing?_ Her heartbeat was wild so probably, so she pressed her hand on his thigh. "It's not obvious to me."

The softness of his tailored pants met her fingers and the smell of his cologne made her feel wanted.

She didn't dare take a breath as she waited for him to explain. "I married you so I had a chance to get back what I'd lost. I have been in love with you since the day we met and that has never changed."

Laughter escaped her throat. She then squeezed his thigh with his muscle tightening beneath her palm and felt the stirrings in her heart. No matter what he said next, this was the truth. He loved her. His eyes spoke to her soul. Wow. She closed her eyes to memorize this exact moment and the first moment they ever met. The past and the present merged in her mind when she said, "The day you borrowed my pen without asking for it."

He winked at her and then kissed her nose. "It was a way to get your attention."

Her lips tingled for a kiss and she wouldn't stop there. She jumped up to find her purse and the cashier's check. Without a single regret, she returned the envelope he'd give her. "I want to give this money back to you. It sounds like we need to figure out security _together_ ."

Beneath the olive tone of his skin, his face paled. He tried to hand it back to her. "No."

She refused, sitting back down, hip to hip. "I didn't marry you for the money, Aaden. Let's use this to make sure we're both safe as I don't want to lose you either."

He put the check on the side table behind him. Her skin became warm butter about to be used in baking a cake as he gazed at her with love. "Sienna, you shouldn't be in danger. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you're hurt."

Her body buzzed and wanted his touch. All she wanted was him. Their bed waited in the next room. "It's no different for me, and from what you said, you are in far more danger."

His phone beeped with text after text after text. She reached behind him and pulled out his phone from his back pocket. He took it from her and silenced it, but it didn't stop whoever was trying to contact him.

Whatever was happening must be important. She sat back and pointed to his phone. "And your phone is exploding. I hope your sister and brother are okay."

"It's not their numbers." He leaned forward to kiss her.

She put two fingers against his lips. Once he knew what was so important, and he turned off the phone, they'd both be happier. "Just check the messages. I'll get ready and change into something more comfortable." Maybe a silk robe in the closet?

With a nod, he glanced away and toward his phone. "I'll read..."

She walked toward her bag to get a nightgown or at least the dress off. Her strapless bra and underwear were satin and lace—she'd hadn't packed anything sexy for her single-lady vacation.

Aaden said, "Woah."

She stopped in her tracks and turned around. "What happened?"

He glanced up but she could tell he seemed lost. She returned to his side and sat back down as he said, "My cousins and my aunt and uncle were all arrested."

Now that his parents were gone, all he had was extended family and her. She massaged his tight shoulder. "Why?"

He ran his hand through his thick dark hair. "For money laundering and stealing on Wall Street more than 250 billion dollars."

"What? That's a lot of money."

He hardened his stare and sat straight. "And they probably have that money on their own and more without needing to steal a penny. This doesn't make any sense."

And she thought his billions were a lot. The numbers he tossed so casually were astronomical. She nodded like she understood though she really didn't. "How do they have that much money?"

He traced her bare shoulder. "My father was the second prince, but my uncle, the older brother, was briefly king," he explained. "Our country has more oil than anyone else, and he held the rights even when deposed." He massaged his temples as he put all the clues together. "They are innocent, I know it. I think whoever killed my parents targeted them." He interlaced their fingers. "Sienna, until this is over, I need you to be safe."

Her? She had no say in any of this and never saw that kind of money—she hadn't even opened the envelope he'd given her with the cashier's check. His pulse beat at his wrist. "I don't understand what you mean?"

He nodded and then spoke like he was making plans. "We'll get your mother. But we're all moving to a place I can 100% ensure total safety."

"My mom is in danger?"

"No—but just in case. Besides I don't know how long this might take."

No problem. She'd take a leave from her job and that was that. She swallowed and made mental plans, his concern for her fanning the flames of desire for her husband. After all of this time thinking he didn't care? She wanted to make new memories. "Fair enough, but can that start tomorrow?" She tugged on his forearm. "I was hoping for our wedding night."

He stopped frowning and a slow smile spread across his face, his eyes turning a dark cocoa. The weight of his hand settled low on her back, then down to her hip, his caress heating the fabric of her dress. She stood to lead him to bed but he said, "Yes. Let me text Johnson a copy of our license and then I'm all yours for the rest of the night."

"Good!" She went to her bag, reaching behind her to shrug out of her dress and hang it in the bedroom.

Aaden followed her inside and leaned against the door. "I'll tell Johnson to toss the prenuptial in the trash."

A sigh escaped her lips but her shoulders were relaxed and she was happy. He loved her and besides Aaden had always been one to change a deal. "Why?"

He helped her step out of her dress. "Because if I'm right and someone is targeting my family, then a divorce would end any royal claims I have to my birth country. The laws are ancient there and there is no peaceful separation. In six months we could divorce and then remarry so I'm out of the running and we can keep you safe."

The idea of being stoned to death played in her mind which wasn't the sexiest image in the world. She blinked and met his gaze. Then to prove her point, she shrugged. "I don't want a divorce anyhow, Aaden. I just want you, so we'll figure out any potential threat together, as a couple."

His lips swooped down and claimed hers. She wrapped her arms around him as a fever of desire washed through her. She held onto him as he guided her toward the bed. "I intend to keep my wife, and whatever family we may have, safe from whatever is happening."

"Family? As in more than just us?"

"Yeah."

The words family they _may_ have replayed and she realized he wanted children with her. Another laugh escaped her throat. This vacation had given her everything she'd ever wanted. She settled on the bed with him above her and reached for his shirt buttons. "As long as I'm here with you, then I'm happy. You're the only man I've ever loved."

He helped her undress him. His defined muscles had strengthened over the years and whetted her appetite for him.

"I've only ever loved you."

No more words were necessary.

They were married and as far as she was concerned, that meant forever. She trusted he'd keep her safe and they'd do whatever they could for his brother, sister and the rest of his extended family.

But tonight belonged to her and Aaden—nothing else mattered in the world other than how he made her body tremble and fall apart from the brush of his hand on her skin.

_Thank you for reading._ I hope you enjoyed Aaden and Sienna's romance as much as I did. In the next full length story you'll get Jordan and Martha's marriage on convenience romance set in college. Jordan wants his inheritance now and Martha needs a scholarship to finish school. Neither expected romance in Irresistibly Found.

And to find out about new books, sign up for my newsletter: <https://victoriapinder.com>

# Irresistibly Found Preview

Martha parked her bicycle in the shade of the high-rise on Miami's white, sandy beach. Her heart beat a million miles a minute and it wasn't from the trek in the 100 degree heat. She brushed her slightly damp hands against her jeans and gazed out at the clear blue ocean.

Today had the possibility of a new start, a change to her life for the better. Who knows? One conversation never hurt anyone, or so she'd told herself over and over since coming up with the bold plan during the middle of the night.

The lobby was three floors all on its own with elevators to the west and east side. The all-white Italian marble desk security sat behind probably cost more than her entire year's tuition. Toward the ocean was a lounge with a central fire pit that no one was using in the middle of the scorching day.

Security cleared her pretty fast once she showed her college ID and mentioned who she was there to see, and they directed her to the 45th floor.

"Take the east elevator," one of the uniformed men said.

"Thank you." Martha hugged her backpack straps close to her body and rode the elevator up, getting off on the 45th floor. She peered out into the hall which gave her an option of four doors. 4502. She held her breath as she reminded herself that she had nothing to lose, and knocked.

Too soon, the dark-haired, brown-eyed, muscular college senior she saw every Wednesday as he waited in _her_ line for coffee stood before her, his shirt partially unbuttoned, and stared at her like she was a complete stranger.

Okay she was, but still. Martha lifted her chin and offered her hand to shake while she asked, "Jordan Bentley?"

He blinked as he tried to place her, looking arrogantly down his nose. It was clear he had no idea who she was or why she was in his hallway. "Yes."

"We go to college together." She steadied her legs to brace for impact as she held his gaze and then said what she never thought she'd say to anyone. "My name is Martha Vargas. I'd like to apply to be your wife for 30 days."

His intake of breath and wide eyes showed his surprise, even as his shoulders straightened from a casual slouch. "Excuse me?"

Her face felt hot. This had to be the stupidest thing she'd ever done, but if anyone needed the money, it was her. Now.

Martha had received a letter in the mail that said her scholarship was in danger of losing its funding, which meant she'd never finish college, just as her mother and everyone she'd ever known, except Ricky, had predicted. She refused to turn back now.

She adjusted the weight of her backpack on her shoulders. "I know there isn't an official listing or a job application to fill out, but I wanted to meet you and see if we might help each other."

Jordan motioned for her to come inside, so she walked through palatial white double doors into a condo that was fashioned out of a dream. The white marble downstairs in the lobby was nothing compared to his kitchen counter and the expanse of floor was light bamboo which was probably customized to whatever he wanted instead of just using as it was built. He closed the door and crossed his arms. "How do you even know about-"

"Right." She interrupted him before he went further, in fear of being thrown out. If someone knocked on her dorm room door with an insane plan of marriage for convenience, she'd slam it closed in their face. But this was no dorm, and the plan was his, actually, with a few tweaks.

"You asked Jessica yesterday when you were both outside near the bay, and she turned you down because she's knee-deep in love with Matthew and didn't want to ruin her chances with him."

His hand covered his chin while his big brown eyes studied her. For a second, he didn't move at all. Martha tried to stand tall, so she didn't shake and give away her nerves. He dropped his hand and asked, "Jessica told you?"

"No." Martha had been walking home from her barista job in the same way she strolled every night. Normally no one was in her path. She pushed her hair behind her ear and said, "Not exactly. I overheard you both talking at the library entrance that overlooks Biscayne—it wasn't like you were whispering," he'd seemed very confident when he'd proposed the opportunity to a surprised Jessica, "but later on I saw Jessica with Matthew, who also lives at my dorm, so I figured she must have turned you down."

"Huh." Jordan directed her to his living area and she noticed his bare feet so she quickly kicked off her black Reeboks. He didn't comment while she pushed them near his door before she followed him. "So you thought you'd just come over to my apartment and propose?"

Well, she was running out of options and the scheme, in her head, didn't sound that awful—it gave them each what they wanted. She nodded. "Finding out where you live wasn't easy and that took me a few hours—I'd hoped to be here earlier."

His eyes widened as his only expression. How was he so in control of his reactions? Maybe she was just looking for more because of her psych classes.

He shook his head a little. "How did you even?"

She offered her brightest smile and stayed still. "We have a school directory. I found it online in the email database."

Jordan slowly eyed her up and down. Her light blue shirt was only slightly wet from her ride here, and her jeans were clean. The lack of jewelry might be all he really noticed or maybe her lack of makeup or her brown hair in the messy bun. She wasn't a fashion model, but she wasn't awful. She bit her lip and waited for him to finish his scrutiny.

He motioned for her to sit on the white leather couch and he took the matching chair opposite her. "And you go to college?"

The fact he hadn't thrown her out yet should make her feel at ease. However, her skin still had goosebumps, despite the record-breaking heat she'd pedaled in to get here. She swallowed and wished he'd offer her water but wouldn't ask. She kept her gaze steady and said, "Yes. I live in the dorm. Before I agree, though, I'll need proof that what you said is true about the money, and how much you're willing to pay for a 30 day wife."

Her needs were not that large, but to have no debt after her schooling would be a relief.

He shifted in his seat, assessing her, and at last scratched his chin. "It could be a maximum 60 days. It all depends on how fast the bank releases my inheritance and how fast my lawyers file."

Good. So he wasn't saying no. This might be her only chance to finish college. She nodded like they were in a board room and not in his deluxe condo. "I totally understand. And I'm 100% free of any romantic entanglements."

The jeer he made with the flick of his tongue instantly made her feel like the ugly duckling. Since she was invisible in her jobs as she served his crew, she didn't take it personally.

He straightened. "Yes, I can guess that, but let's be completely honest, Martha. We're not in each other's circles. Why would you want to marry me?"

Money.

Maybe someone like him, related to royalty, would never understand being poor. She'd been hungry growing up, and once she turned 14, she'd gotten her first job and never stopped working. She'd studied hard all her life because she believed her teachers when they'd said education was her way out of poverty and she wasn't going to lose her shot because of funding drying up.

The handsome prince in front of her knew nothing about suffering. She opted for the truth. "I've never seen 100 million dollars. I've probably never seen 1,000 unless you count a rent check that a few of my friends put together every month. I'm here on scholarship and loans, and I just got word that one of the programs has closed. I'm terrified of being stuck in this cycle no matter how hard I work. I don't want another burn from heated oils making French fries." She showed the healed scar on the inside of her wrist.

Jordan studied her so intently that she realized his brown eyes had flecks of gold. She'd never been this close to him before. She crossed her legs and waited for him to say something, anything.

Her body warmed. What did he see? It was true that they were different but that could be a good thing considering the situation was temporary. If he agreed. She clasped her fingers over her knee.

Was he going to kick her out?

Finally, he opened his mouth and her heart leapt as she waited for every syllable that fell from his lips. "I'll need you to move in here, to a separate bedroom, of course, and we'll have to dress you better."

The words took a minute to process in her brain. The pedaling and her four-hour shift making coffee this morning hadn't given her time to rest before coming here to present her plan. Her skin buzzed. He wasn't kicking her out but taking her offer seriously. Her heart began to beat faster though she tugged on her clothes and held her nice shirt out slightly. "My jeans and t-shirt are perfectly clean. I washed everything before trekking over here."

His gaze instantly narrowed. "Trekking? How did you get here?"

People like him had no idea that not everyone had a car or a yacht or whatever it was that he took to school every day. She released her shirt and looked down a little to see his reaction. "My bicycle is parked outside your building."

He leaned back in his chair and massaged his temples. "Do you not have a car?"

Her nose wrinkled as she thought about her mother's last car that seemed to always break down. Her mother sweated paying the insurance every month until it was finally cancelled. Martha pushed a strand of loose hair back and shook her head. "No, those cost too much. I can fix my bicycle if it's broken."

He made a _tsk_ sound with his tongue that made her pay closer attention to his words. "Campus is at least 10 miles from here. How have I never seen you?"

"Actually, you have. Every week."

She'd fantasized about him as he stood on the other side of the counter, looking effortlessly handsome in designer jeans, dark wavy hair falling over his forehead and that beard of his that hid his smile this semester only made him sexier, like a mountain man who could rescue her if they were stuck in the wilderness. She'd also dreamed that she might save him from some crazy person, or that he'd suddenly wake up and see her beauty, like in a fairy tale.

The reality was that he usually just nodded, no eye contact at all, and left the store with his coffee. Her face must be red because she was as hot as the burgers she overcooked during the lunch rush. "You order a mocha latte every Wednesday."

He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. "The coffee shop doesn't sell French fries."

Fair enough. He didn't know anything about her. She hugged her waist, not wanting his pity. "I have three jobs while trying to keep up my grades."

He shook his head. "Sarah-"

"Martha." She looked up. He needed to know the right name to say during the vows. "My name is Martha."

"Martha," he amended. "I've never met anyone like you. I don't know if I can trust you. You seem a walking disaster, no offense." He scratched at his beard. "But I need a temporary wife and a quick divorce."

"I have no problems with that, Jordan." Martha answered fast and held up her hand like she was going to be sworn in on a bible.

He pressed his thumbs together between his legs. "You'll have to look and act the part of my wife which means quitting those jobs, and we'll need to figure out a cover story."

Quitting was a dream all on its own, but she'd talk to her managers. Perhaps she could come back once the month was over, just in case this didn't work out. "A cover story?"

He stared at her again like she was some alien he'd just seen and not a girl one year behind him in school. His lips were _almost_ in a sneer while he chose his words. "No one is going to buy that we decided to get married. The inheritance is clear that it can't be a sham. So we'll have to prove to my parents' former lawyers that you and I are genuine. It would take a lot of work."

Okay, he didn't need to look so mean about that comment. Sure, she'd never gone to a salon that cost more than fifteen dollars to cut her hair, and even that seemed like a lot of money, but he didn't need to be insulting. She massaged her neck and said, "You didn't mention this to Jessica."

He sat back, like he knew she'd been offended. "Jessica and I have gone to school together our entire lives. She's met everyone I know. No one's heard of Martha Vargas."

Underneath their clothes, Martha was sure she was just as worthy as the bleached blonde with the sun-drenched skin from lazing around the pool. Well, Jessica probably had more curves, but she'd probably never missed a meal. Martha was on the skinny side though her hips and butt collected more than they should, but she wasn't frail or pitiful looking. She was pretty normal with her brown hair and brown eyes.

She scooted closer to the edge of the couch. "I can pretend to be in love with you for 30 days as long as we both agree to keep our hands to ourselves and separate bedrooms."

He nodded his fast agreement. "That won't be a problem, Martha."

Her heart shrank in her chest, though it shouldn't. She didn't move, but this was the first conversation they'd had about sex and she wanted to be clear. "Why? Are you gay? If you are, that's totally fine."

He laughed, and his voice was like rich chocolate cake drenched in raspberry. "No. I'm not gay, but you're not my type."

Fair. She'd been the invisible woman in the green smock, who made his latte. She stood. "Great. You're not mine, either." Which was her first lie.

He rose and tapped one finger against his slightly thick bottom lip. "One more thing."

Her body tingled, and she ignored that sensation as she looked away and asked, "Yeah?"

He crossed his arm and widened his stance while he stared at her up and down like she should obviously know what he'd say. She met his gaze and waited because she had no clue. "We'll need a three-day window to even see if you can pass in my world."

A trial was smart. She'd like to know she could do this and that it wasn't just a stupid plan born of desperation. She shook his hand and electricity shot through her. "Why three days?"

He didn't hide his perusal. "Hair, makeup and clothes will take time. Saturday night I'll take you to my brother's wedding reception as my date. If you can pull that off, we'll get married Monday morning and start the process."

She knew he'd stared a second longer at her breasts than necessary. She didn't call him out on it—after all, she'd been checking him out too. "Sounds like a plan. And I get 100 million," she paused at the incredible number, "like you promised Jessica?"

He placed his hand on the small of her back and walked her to the door. "One hundred million, plus keep the clothes, makeup, jewelry, car and anything else I give you during our brief marriage."

Her heart beat fast just because he was near, and he smelled better than any man she'd ever met. At the door she picked up her sneakers, curling her toes in her white and blue socks against the bamboo. "This is the best job ever."

Who cared that they were from different universes? They were never going to be romantic and in a month she'd be richer than she'd ever thought possible. It was enough to finish school and start a new life.

Jordan looked down at her feet and back up again. "We'll see about that."

# Favorite Crush

Please check out the entire series!

The Marshall Family Saga

Favorite Crush

Favorite Mistake

Favorite Sin

Favorite Scandal

# Chapter 1

Jay Marshall pressed his lips together as he held the phone. His hands curled into a ball then straightened. He stared out his bay windows overlooking the ocean. Another beautiful day on the beaches of South Florida—not that he cared. Sunshine never filled him with joy. The humidity outside suffocated the spirit, but somehow, with this deal, he'd break free.

"Yes, you'll see I mean business, Mr. Danvers. My business plans are long-term."

Danvers sucked in his breath, as if he doubted the sincerity of Jay's words, then told Jay, "And I'll meet your girlfriend. It's always telling with people from Miami. Flashy women and cars do not make for good investments on my end."

Jay gritted his teeth and tugged at his free ear, but kept the phone in the other. Miami advertised plastic women on the highway as a special brand. Flashy came with the area code. But instead of sharing that, he nodded and told the potential investor, "I understand. See you next week."

He hung up the phone and stared out the window. The brightness showed his reflection and his grim frown. Jay needed to win. His eyebrows squished together. He'd pay the price for success. He had no other choice.

Jay's mind raced to his technical girlfriend. Eva was the epitome of flashy, beautiful, and fake. She'd been a friend since high school, and two months ago, they had ended up dating. On paper the award-winning dramatic actress, his money, and their history should be a match. Yet he couldn't imagine his entire life videotaped.

If he walked away from her, there would be no regrets. His investors hoped he had a nice, sweet woman on the side. His cousin, Sandra, and her friend, Penny, flashed in his head before he dropped the thought.

He pushed his hand on the glass window before he stepped back into the shadows of his office.

Darkness didn't suit him either. Nothing stirred inside him anymore, though he craved something. Anything other than boredom from the sticky heat of his life.

He shook his head and poked his head out of his office. His secretary sat there typing. "Call Eva. Set up an appointment for us to talk today."

With the click of the doorknob, he rolled up his sleeves. He needed this deal to put his goals in line with his investment portfolio.

His eyes narrowed in on the first words: long-term growth.

"Long-term" read to his eyes like a rescue rope. He blinked. Life should be lived with long-term goals to reach. Freedom meant change.

Today, he'd break up with Eva. He'd always hoped for a woman that tugged at his heartstrings. But hopes didn't earn freedom. He'd prove to himself, and the others, that John Jay Marshall came out of the game of life on top.

# Chapter 2

"Home, sweet, err...coffee."

Getting out of her car, Penny brushed at her worn jeans to get out a small wrinkle. Not that it mattered. She smelled the coffee drawing her to the door. The delicious aroma of freshly brewed java that could wake her up waited inside. Gainesville had coffee shops, but nothing that held her heart like this place. In high school, this place was her mecca. Her stomach grumbled for the familiar drink at Sodoma Brews.

The coffee shop looked almost the same as it had years ago, except for the aluminum tables and wooden chairs with red cushions. She remembered the plaid chairs and brown tables, but the place still calmed her, like she was coming home.

She stepped up to the counter. "I'll have a cinnamon dulce nonfat latte, please."

Leaving Gainesville after college had always been the plan. Just never back to Miami, But she'd changed. She could live here now.

She checked her lip gloss while she waited for the latte at the counter.

When she accepted the promotion from part-time to full-time, she knew she would have to face her mother and the catch of the month, Lars, her mother's plastic surgeon. What that woman would do for a free tummy tuck.

The job she'd accepted had offered to triple her salary, provided she moved to the Coral Gables office. Somehow, she would have to avoid her mother .as long as possible. What was the new man's name with money this week? Penny ignored that last call, knowing the man with the largest wallet always took precedence over whatever Penny needed. She watched the barista get the nonfat milk and finish her latte. She'd succeed here, now. She had to.

She'd call Sandra, Eva, John, and Michael later. Wyatt, her half-brother, was stationed overseas, so she'd wait for his weekly call. These people were her real family.

The man handed her the latte. The first sip gave her the strength to do this. The tightness in her chest dissipated while she tasted her liquid savior. Sighing, she tasted heaven, the wake-up to her day.

"Penny."

Though the unmistakable voice was deeper, she knew who it was without even turning. Her high school crush who never noticed her beyond her brain. Pulling at her pink tank top, she wished she'd worn better clothes. "John Jay."

His steely blue eyes and sandy blond hair were the same color, but his build had grown more muscular. The leanness of his youth had given way to broad shoulders and hard, muscular arms. He had a straight, faded scar on his left cheek that was new—probably a bar fight. Rich boy wore his fancy, perfectly fitted polo and jeans, and was definitely hotter with age. His million-dollar smile and devastating dimples sparked a warm flush that sped through her all the way to the tips of her toes.

"I'm going by Jay these days. It's less formal." He winked at her, turning off his tablet and pointing her to his table.

"It's a good name, but I still prefer Dimples," she teased. "It's what I called you online whenever I needed you."

His rich, deep laugh sent that familiar spark through her.

Damn. Rich boy knew his effect on women, including her. He could manipulate her when she went quiet, but she'd learned a lot in college. She'd not let him weaken her.

"When did you get back to town?"

"I've been in town for, like, five minutes. I stopped in for morning coffee. How have you been?"

"Good. Busy these days. You?"

She pushed back her hair, twisting her wrist, telling herself she was not the nerdy girl with a one-sided attraction any longer.

"I have a lot going on."

"Flirty, Warm Eyes. How come you never came home after college? The past few months you've been out of touch."

"Warm Eyes" sounded new. She refused to dwell or wonder if it was a little forced. "You noticed? I'm surprised."

"I noticed."

She almost lost her balance looking at those dimples. Stifling a giggle, she shrugged, intending to be more adult. "I lost my computer connection at home. Question now turns to you. You weren't too busy with the South Beach party life?"

"No. I missed our weekly chats."

"You could have called me. I had my phone." Not that they had the same view of each other. She was a friend. He had no idea about her fantasies. Staying away helped her forget the unattainable, perfect guy of her teenage years. Sandra kept her up on everything, but she had to ask. Gripping her empty cup tighter, she asked, "How is Tamara?"

She knew both his former and current girlfriend from high school. But she hadn't heard what happened to the college sweethearts. "Tammy? I haven't seen her since we graduated last year. I thought you were coming home then."

"I am surprised. We all thought you two were destined for the altar." Blonde, blue eyes, like him. They'd make gorgeous children one day. "When did that end?"

"The night before graduation at University of Miami. She moved to Los Angeles and neither of us wanted long-distance. You know how it is." He shrugged. "I missed you, Pen."

No. He didn't mean that like a man interested in her. They'd never be a couple. Crossing her legs under the table, she tilted her head. "You miss the girl who could correct your math and did problems faster than you."

"Only some of the time, but you were the only one who ever could pull that off. And I could probably beat you now."

A challenge. This was familiar. "You think? I graduated with a mechanical engineering degree, about to start my job with Mueller Enterprises, so my skills are pretty fresh."

"Finance and accounting. So we're on point with our skills. Seeing you here, I'm getting a good idea."

"Your ideas cost too much. I can't fly off to Milan this weekend. I am rather busy."

His eyes swam with excitement. "Penny, you're exactly what I need. I'm happy you're here. We always got along, didn't we?"

"I always thought so."

"Can I borrow you?" he asked.

Damn. Now that was a tempting flirt. _Borrow her._ What did that mean? On another morning, she'd have hopped up on that one, but wherever this was headed, she had no time for it.

"I can't reminisce today, Jay. I have to find an apartment to move into." She picked up the empty cup of coffee and stared at the two hundred feet to the door and her waiting rental car. Standing up, she pushed her chair out, picked up her bag, and told him, "I don't have a lot of time for anything else."

"You're looking for a place?"

"I need a place to call my own before I start work."

He scratched his chin. "I know the area, Penny. I have an idea already for a place you can stay—that is, if you'll go out with me Friday."

His blue eyes bored deep into her. Then she gazed toward the ground to catch her breath. "Thanks, but I think I can figure it out. We're both from here, remember."

"Look, we'll go together. And I would like to take you out on Friday, regardless. But I have a great idea about where you can live."

Her eyes widened. Letting him go with her would be a distraction. Besides, with his billions, their definition of a "suitable apartment" would not be the same. He'd never live in the real world. "Don't be silly. I'm sure you have something important to do that doesn't include me."

"You're important, Pen. You walking into this shop this morning _is_ the answer to my prayers. I need a date, with someone believable, someone smart and able to hold a conversation. And you need an affordable place where you can live, a place with a great view.."

"I'd love to drop everything and follow you with a line like that."

"I need you, and in exchange I can help. It's a win-win in my book."

He needed her? No way could this happen. John Jay Marshall had the looks, the money, and the connections to make any woman fall at his feet, especially her. She opened her mouth to tell him no. "I'd have written you off in high school, but then you turned out to be one of the smartest and nicest men I know. It's why we keep in touch. So, okay, you can come with me and tell me your big plan about why you need a date so bad."

Where had that come from? His thoughts on anything could distract her. In high school she was the unnoticed friend, and she would not go back to being on anyone's sidelines.

He leaned closer with that smile that caused her legs to weaken. "I guarantee you'll love what I'm thinking of for a place to stay, Penny. It has a view, so let's sit and finish our coffees."

"You've mentioned the view twice." She placed her finished latte on the table, and he put his tablet away while she resettled in her seat. "Just because you're helping doesn't mean you can interfere."

"Tell me how I became the luckiest guy on the planet seeing your face again."

The boy she remembered knew how to flatter a girl. Back in the day, he had spoken and she had sighed and her eyes had drifted up into a dream world where he cared about her. But she had to let that go. Blinking, she dropped her arms and decided to answer his question. "I'm here for my first full-time job. I'm so happy to have this, finally. It's been harder than I thought finding the position. Now I have this weekend to get my life situated, because I start work Monday morning. I need to impress the new bosses."

"You will. You're smart. The job is in the Gables?"

"Yeah." She met his eyes.

Jay nodded. "Good. You're staying. Penny, you deserve a high-paying job. You're one of the few women I trust right now, and I need you on my arm Friday."

Smart did not equate to pretty. She deflated fast. In Miami, the value remained firmly beauty over brains. This was part of why she never wanted to come back. "I traded my glasses for contacts. Other than that, I'm pretty much the same." She shrugged.

"I see that. You're adorable and perfect." He put his hand on hers, and a jolt rushed through her.

Pathetic to be crushing on a guy from five years ago, but here she was staring into his brilliant blue eyes. This needed to end before he got a grip on her again. "What's the favor, Dimples?"

"See? We have history. It will work."

She narrowed her eyes. "What will work?"

"I need a date to a party on Friday, someone who will be willing to pretend we've kept our relationship secret for a while."

"Sandra told me you have a girlfriend."

"So you have been talking about me?" His lips spread into an even bigger smile, if that was possible. "My cousin doesn't know everything."

"You know Sandra. The conversation goes where she wants it to go. She said Eva suits you perfectly. I am surprised you didn't hook up in high school, though I guess you were into Tamara then."

"I'm breaking up with her in about two hours. We agreed on the time already. I decided before you walked in the door, but it left me dateless for Friday. I need to impress people then, but I don't want to pretend with someone I need to walk away from."

She gritted her teeth. This was why she'd never date a rich man. She refused to be so easily replaceable. "You can't be serious."

"I need to show that I'm dating a smart woman with class and things in common with me."

"I can't help you. Don't be serious. I'm not an actress, rich boy. That's Eva."

"Actress isn't what I need or want. I need someone genuine, and we can help each other."

How was she going to impress anyone? "Look, Eva's gorgeous. Jaw dropping. A bombshell. Everyone wants to be her. Every guy wants to date her. Why not wait and break up after the event?"

He stopped moving. "Please, Penny. Eva's demanding, and expects more from me than I want to give. Please save me."

His sad, pleading expression reminded her of a lost puppy in need of saving. She had returned to high school in less than ten minutes. College hadn't meant a thing. "You win, Jay. I'll be your backup girl, though no one might believe you chose the nerd over the award-winning actress. I have one condition—well, two."

"Name them." Gone was the pleading face, replaced by one of triumph. His eyes twinkled and that damn dimple stared back at her. He'd find someone else in no time, leaving her safe from his charm.

"One, you show me this magnificent place for me to live today. I don't want to be homeless or go to my mother's house. I can't go back there. You're a better alternative."

"Done." His eyes sparkled.

"Two, I don't have a fancy dress back here yet. My stuff is still up north. Tell me what to wear and I'll figure something out."

"I'll get you something. Don't worry about it."

"I buy my own clothes, Dimples."

"We can consider it part of the favor."

"Then we can forget this. Tell me what to get."

"We'll be at a charity event on Collins for dinner, dancing, the press. You know." He shrugged, as if it were an everyday thing having your face in the newspaper—and for him, it was.

This conversation wasn't going so well She asked him, "What will the papers say about us? 'Most eligible man in Miami, heir to the Marshall fortune, dates his high school math league partner.'"

He shook his head, telling her, "Or 'Marshall, on the fast track with his own company, listed in the upcoming July issue of _Forbes_ as one of the biggest up-and-coming financial titans, shows class with a caring woman.'"

The press in Miami? He couldn't be serious. She would not be wearing designer anything. Penny pasted a smile on her face. She'd carve out time to hit a few thrift shops tomorrow, searching for something. The press would call it "vintage" if she found the right one. It worked for prom, and it would work again. Besides, it was not like she had much money these days. Going from fifteen thousand part-time to forty-five thousand full-time meant she'd stay frugal. She would have enough to eat and maybe a few extras, once she started getting paid. The tight budget, for once, had an end date. Payday.

She jiggled her empty cup before telling him, "Let's get going. I need to secure a place with a down payment and security deposit. I called ahead to three places with availability before getting on the plane. The list is at the rental office."

"Give me five minutes to make a few calls, Penny. I have a plan. I promise it will work out for you."

She nodded, getting up. "I'll go get my list. Be right back. Remember, the key factor is budget. I won't be living anywhere near the beach."

He nodded, though she couldn't be sure he'd actually listened. Jay had never worried about a bill a day in his life. She needed to be settled in her own place before her mother showed up to swindle her out of every dime she made. Penny had contributed to her mother's lavish lifestyle while she herself had struggled in college with student loans, but a stark look at her nonexistent checking account sobered her up. Looking back, she'd been doubly stupid, but she'd face this and climb out of her financial black hole.

No one would keep Penny Knightheart down. She'd figure out how to win at being an adult.

# Chapter 3

Jay pointed her to his motorcycle, a shiny, sleek black Harley with silver that sparkled in the sun. The back wheel looked as if it were made for the bike to do wheelies. Why would prep boy ride one of these? The blackness without loud, obnoxious stickers portraying any affiliation didn't fit at all with him. Where was his expensive, fast foreign car? Her mouth fell open while she played with her throat. Penny stared at him confused while he handed her a helmet. "Wow. When did you start driving a Harley and how does your mother let you?"

"I don't need her permission, and for two years now."

Shuffling a step backward, she couldn't shake the dazed look she must be giving him. Did the scar come from falling off a bike? "Dimples, you had sexy rich boy down pat. Did you need to add dangerous bad boy to the list? You're going to have to stop at some point or my entire gender is going to be at your feet."

"Most women don't matter." He packed his tablet under the seat and tied his sneaker. "Not you, though, Pen. You're refreshingly forthright, and I can be myself with you. I'm tired of people using me to get what they want. You always wanted me to be better, to help myself. Now hop on. We're going to look at what I picked out for you first."

She stared at the helmet, suspecting this outing would land her in a hotel or a hospital bed tonight, but the idea of not caring about anything sounded too good to be true. "I took statistics in college and worked a desk on highways last year. Six thousand, six hundred and eighty-six people died in Florida last year from motorcycle deaths."

He handed her the helmet. "Put this on. Ninety-nine percent of all people driving a motorcycle don't get into accidents."

"Yet if you do, the fatality rate is higher than any other traffic accident."

"Unless you go into a canal," he replied, adjusting her helmet to her head and flipping down his helmet visor.

"Or drink." He adjusted his seat a little, giving her a nice view of his shapely butt. Not one ounce of fat there. He didn't seem to notice her staring when he told her, "Relax and enjoy yourself. We're not drinking this afternoon, and it sounds like you need a little adventure."

Adrenaline rushed through her while she stifled a giggle. Even now it was obvious Jay was not used to rejection, but she wished she had his confidence. Truth was she would jump off a building if he asked her to.

She slid onto the seat behind him, and the engine purred beneath her. She pressed her chest into his back and stared at his well-built muscles. Her fingers ached to run down his body. to touch him everywhere. Her quickened breathlessness unsettled her, and she needed to cool down.

He glanced over his shoulders at her and told her, "Put your arms around me and hold on."

"Right." Her blush would go down her entire body, but he'd never see it. Her heartbeat overpowered her thoughts while she wrapped her arms around Mr. Perfect, making her forget whatever she'd intended to say.

She closed her eyes when he turned onto the street and squeezed her arms around him. The wind rushing onto her back sent a shiver down her that mixed with adrenaline and sent tingling throughout her entire body. She gasped when he turned onto the highway, intending to go faster. The fluttering in her belly increased with the speed and the wind rushing through her hair. The warm tropical breeze didn't help at all in the speed. Hot. Wind. Her skin sparked everywhere while she squealed. She blinked. They were heading into the Grove. Out of her price range, unless he meant near the end in the small Bahamas section, where the rich were slowly kicking out all the less well-off folks.

Two minutes later, he skipped the poor-people town and headed to the ocean. Smelling the salt air meant she'd never live here, though she hugged him tight while on this ride. She shook her head when he pulled into the parking lot of a white high-rise. This place would be millions of dollars. Not anytime soon on her budget. When he parked, he offered her his hand to help her stand. Gripping him firmly, she swung off the bike, though her knees wobbled. Keeping his hand, she slowly steadied herself.

He had no idea how shaken and aware of him the ride had left her, because he pointed to the building, telling her, "Don't knock it until you've seen the place, Penny."

She would have. "If I refuse, would you take me back to the coffee shop?"

"It's affordable. You'll see."

Why not? She had three days. It wasn't like she could afford the place, but arguing with him would not change anything. Standing up straighter, she brushed off her jeans before she told him, "Might be my only chance to see how the other half live."

"Other half? Penny, we're your friends. Michael and Sandra both have nice homes. Eva's place is huge."

Eva. The soon-to-be ex. "Don't think on her too much. You'll get a new girlfriend soon enough."

"You don't need to be sweet, Penny. The truth is I have a lot on my plate at the moment. Distractions, like a new woman, mean I have to give someone time that I just don't have. Let's get upstairs."

He put out his arm to escort her and bowed his head playfully. She accepted his arm, and stopped a sigh from escaping her lips. "Why not a woman?"

His arms stayed firm at his sides and he answered fast, "I have to focus on work."

She had to do the same. She smiled. "Work is important to both of us at the moment. Lead away, Dimples. I should be stressed out and pulling my hair out like I planned, but here I am visiting your palace."

"Relax. I think you'll like this place."

She could imagine living here. The white brick walls mixed with an art deco flavor tickled her fancy. The black pot in the center of the entry room had to be artistic, though not her taste. Someone rich and famous had to live here. "I forgot about fun, so show me."

"Flirty is new."

"I'm not. I'm still nerdy."

"No, you're the same good person I remember."

Her cheeks burned when his blue eyes stared at her. She rubbed her arms at her side, and he studied her for that second. Could he see what he did to her? Was she glowing? And why did that look make her want to hold on to him tighter? She was a problem solver, not a beach girl with no brains and overexposed skin that eventually pruned with premature sun aging. She was not going to be her mother and marry the plastic surgeon. A smile grew on her face and she dropped her arms to her sides. She'd never be her mom. Penny preferred to figure things out on her own. She accepted who she was now and needed to tell him. No more hiding. What could she say? "Next sci-fi convention is in October up in Orlando. Do you dare show up at one of those?"

Biting her lip, she stared down at her feet. That wasn't exactly the first step toward being her real self that she'd imagined making.

He squeezed her arm as he steered her into the white building, pointing out the swimming area with sun-bleached wooden deck chairs. Wood died fast in tropical heat, making that luxury available for those who could afford to replace everything each year. He guided her up the stairs to see the pool area overlooking the ocean, before he said, "We'll see where we stand in October, but sounds interesting. I'm up for new adventures these days."

Jay had changed, and for the better, though he still had that rich-boy attitude toward getting what he wanted. Sighing, she relaxed, noting at least his voice lacked the haughtiness of privilege.

"What made you grow up?" she asked.

"All the people that mattered to me left. At UM I made good connections, but I missed my cousins, dramatic Eva, country Wyatt, and you. We were a diverse bunch with different interests. At UM, I met people like me. Cool, but not as interesting."

His father had always struck her as a serious businessman. Maybe that came with age, the genetic disposition to be focused, but she'd bet something else happened. What didn't he say? The doorman nodded at Jay. "Seeing 42-B, sir?"

"Yep. Here to show my friend."

Hmm. The man in the gray suit behind the desk never stood up while Jay hit the button. She smelled a setup. Why would they know each other? A doorman's job was to stop intruders. Jay waving at the man meant he knew him. Or did the rich people get to just walk in? No. Doormen only stopped people like her? Jay had obviously been here before, as his face garnered a smile and he waved.

Jay must be about to manipulate her into something. It clicked in her head. Rich boy always did whatever he could to get something he wanted. She'd keep her guard up. She followed Jay into the elevator, where he held up a white key.

"I hope this place is what you're looking for."

"How do you have a key?"

"I want to talk you into living here first."

"Yeah, right." She shook her head. "I'm never going to be able to afford a place like this. You're crazy if you think that charm of yours means I blindly follow you into this fairytale."

"My life isn't a fantasy, Pen." The doors opened into the open floor of a condo. She stepped into the ultra-modern apartment. The pale wood floors shone as if they had just been polished. The entry room was larger than the entire apartment she had in college. Outside she could see Biscayne Bay and a scattering of boats bobbing along, as if life never seemed to touch them. Walking forward, she saw an open space. He pushed a side door open, revealing a kitchen area. The empty place housed more space than any condo her mother had dragged her into.

"Come on, Penny. I want to show you the private roof, overlooking Miami."

"I can't afford this, Jay. I knew out there I couldn't, but this place is easily ten thousand square feet."

"Excellent eye. Nine thousand, four hundred and ninety-eight square feet, and the roommate is looking to share with someone who won't be home much because they are working."

She crossed to the bay window. Below was an Olympic-size zero-entry pool with a spa. "I am an engineer, not a rock star. Let's go. I don't have time for this. The person who lives here cannot be looking for me to move in."

She turned to go back to the elevator, but he caught her wrist to stop her.

"Do you like this place?"

"It's beautiful." She twirled around, taking a look at the stairs going to a second floor inside the building. The place had enough space for two living rooms and a restaurant to fit into the kitchen. The oven alone would be fun to play with. "Living here would be a dream."

He put his hands in his pockets. "Then live here. You were going to pay, what, $1000 a month to live somewhere else, and not have the view, the address, or anything you'd get here?"

"I was hoping for $900." She noticed the outside balcony here painted Miami in serenity, warmth, and light. She'd only lived in the west, where the normal people not on vacation dwelled. She gazed away from him to calculate what she needed. "I'd then look for a roommate, and a nicer place, cutting the budget back to where I want it to be, and save money for the future."

"Take a roommate now."

"This place would never be in my budget."

He leaned on the wall next to her before he admitted, "This is my property, though I've never lived here. I'd like to. I need a final break from my parents, too."

She added it up, but it didn't figure. "You are not suggesting—"

"Wait, let me finish." Before she could argue, he led her through the door to a room, then through a second door. "This could be my room. It's clear on the other side of the place, giving you privacy. The first room upstairs would be my office where prying eyes don't follow me at every turn."

"Do it, then. Move here. I'll visit." She searched his eyes, hoping to understand why he hadn't moved here. She needed to ask what happened to him, but before she could string the sentence together, he led her forward again. They did a quick walk-through of all the rooms, the living area, dining area, and to the other side, opening a second door. "What's going on?"

"This is the master bedroom without a den for a workspace. My money is tied up with my new venture for the next four months, and every time I work from home or get a place without anyone, my plans have been compromised. I'll need someone to pay some of the lot fee, say seven hundred and fifty dollars. You get to save. I get to move in. We both know each other, and we'd stay out of each other's business. Unlike my mother, you won't steal my ideas, and you cannot invite her here at any time."

No. "I'm not living with a harem of women traipsing through my living room every day."

He stayed still and his eyes turned to steel. "Won't happen. After Eva I have sworn off women. Besides, I need to focus on work. I don't trust anyone anymore, but you won't hurt my business or me."

"Who would dare harm a hair on your head?" She blinked.

"Then help me. Stay here. I need to focus on work and prove I can do this on my own."

Live with Jay. His seriousness on that didn't match what she knew. She'd watch him date countless females while she lived in the other room with the door closed. Women threw themselves at money. Women like her mother, though his mother had stolen from him too, it seemed. Feeling compassion for him weakened her. The ocean wouldn't keep her calm and collected for that long. "No. This won't work at all for me. Take me back to our coffee shop now."

"Jumpy" didn't begin to describe her skin, and he wouldn't move. Taking a hard swallow, she realized he waited for her arm to lead. When she took his arm, she ran her free hand though her hair. Pressing her lips together, she stayed silent in the elevator, the lobby, and the garage while he walked to his motorcycle. She slowed down with hesitant steps at the end, realizing she had to go back with him. He hadn't done anything wrong, but she could not live with him. She slowly wrapped her arms around his perfect body, letting the smell of him wash through her, suppressing a sigh. No. She'd call herself a complete idiot if she moved in with him. She needed space to breathe, not watching him live his life that close.

The traffic and speed kept her tight body from freezing. She held on until he stopped. Looking at the coffee shop, she hopped off fast before he could help her, and scrambled to get her keys.

He called out from his bike, "Penny, I surprised you. Please think about it." He stepped off his bike, reaching into his jeans. Pulling out a card, he told her, "Keep the number, and remember, you're my date on Friday. I'm counting on you."

"Pretend date."

She'd do it. Just like the rest of the female population, she always fell for his blue eyes and those sexy dimples, but he'd never be hers. She knew better than to hope for the impossible. Hoping for more than she could have was a surefire way to disappointment.

# Chapter 4

Jay shrugged halfheartedly. He refused to hurry and continued to stare off at the ocean. He placed his hands in his pocket, then turned back into the exclusive five-star restaurant. Eva's unpredictable behavior stemmed from her work schedule, and she was busy now preparing to star in an upcoming play. With a yawn, he'd guess she'd overreact for photographers, but he didn't judge her. He smiled politely at all who passed. Business was business, and he understood that part of tonight.

His face flushed the second he stepped through the restaurant. She'd be here late. With a determined set of his jaw, he nodded at the hostess and walked toward his seat at the window overlooking the ocean.

Miami had such beautiful beaches. He relaxed into his seat and closed his eyes. Tonight, would be different if Penny agreed. Her smile was like a warm breeze on the ocean.

With an intake of breath, he lifted his index finger to indicate he needed service. A moment later, a waitress took his drink order.

With a flick of his light brown hair, he turned away and stared at the phone. Penny never called him.

"It's never good to drink alone, son."

His mouth pinched together into a scowl. His mother. A vein in his neck pounded as he turned his head. He crossed his arms to somehow block his rising blood pressure. Through clenched teeth, he told her, "I asked you to leave me alone."

"I asked you not to interfere with your father's business."

He gazed past her. "And I have repeatedly asked you not to interfere in my life, Mother. Yet here you are."

"I was in the restaurant. Was I to ignore my only son?"

His eyes narrowed in on his mother. This woman would sell him, her only son, for cash. Did she still expect loyalty? With a sharp, tart answer, he shrugged. "Yes."

"Jay, be reasonable."

The storm of his emotions thundered in his answer. "My business is separate from Dad's. I know it's hard for you to lose control of someone, but you need to leave now."

"That's harsh. With time you'll understand my only wish was to help our family."

His chest tightened while his expression hardened. "Helped yourself. Look, I have a date and you're not it. Tell Dad if he wants to talk business, he can call me without you on the other line. Every dime I've ever made with my company is from my own hard work and sweat."

"I'll go, but we're not done with this conversation."

When he shut down his parents' company, he'd earn his reward. "Yes. We are. Eva's here now."

"She's lovely."

Penny's unfiltered smile and warmness held true beauty on the inside. Eva's outward looks didn't matter. "She's on your payroll."

Jay stood up and put his drink down. His blue eyes stared down his mother, though she stood taller than most women, and she haughtily lifted her head and walked away. He glared while she left and Eva joined him. The two shared more than just dark hair and eyes in common. They both would send a boy into prison and stay kidnapped to collect the cash insurance policy.

Eva nodded at him, sparkling in silver and diamonds. With a nod, he indicated for her to sit.

She understood. "Jay."

He took a slow, even breath then nodded. "Eva."

"You didn't kiss me hello."

His eyebrow arched. "Was I supposed to?"

Her eyes narrowed on his. She knew something was not quite right when she asked, "Is tonight in public for a reason?"

A girl like Penny would never be boring. He took a long pause and stared at Eva. "Yes."

"I thought so."

Penny would never be so cool and put together. He tugged at his ear. "Eva, I want us to be friends."

She crossed her arms. "So you know?"

His brows elevated slightly though he kept his gaze firm. With a nod, he answered, "I know."

Without warning, she stood up. "I'll think about this. Meet me tomorrow."

His mouth dropped open. He jumped to his feet and watched her sashay away. He'd expected more dramatics.

With a shrug, he sat back down and finished his drink. With his phone, he checked social media. Penny wasn't online. He checked her profile. Up in Gainesville, she had a boyfriend, yet she never mentioned him in person. She listed herself as single on her page, though, and Jay smiled to himself.

She must be free. He'd find out. Penny would never be cold with him, not like Eva or his mother. His high school friend's face matched the warmness of her heart. It had been a long time since he'd met anyone like her.

The waitress came over and he turned his phone off to quickly pay the bill. Tomorrow, he'd find Penny again.

# Chapter 5

Penny heard the children screaming for their toys while the parents sat still, drinking beers under a tree. Inside the apartment, the upstairs neighbors banged on their floor, causing the apartment to shake. In the back, a car was blasting its music so loud, her lips curled. She disapproved of everything she saw.

Hopefully Jay's apartment hadn't skewed her view of all places. She ran back to her car. She'd never be able to afford a doorman.

The first apartment would make her hate living in the area in a week or less. Penny rushed back to her rental car, not stopping to breathe the air.

Starting her car, she programmed her GPS with the directions. Jay's place gleamed clean and quiet. No. She shook her head. She'd do this on her own, not live the fairytale her mother dreamed of.

Jay's blue eyes stared at her in her mind. He was seriously sexy. Adulthood made him determined, dangerous, and manly. Living with him couldn't happen.

She hoped the second place would be better. Steeling her spine, she started the car and turned to see it.

When she reached the street, her phone beeped. Picking up the phone, she saw Sandy had texted her. She dialed her number, not wanting to get into an accident. "Sandra, hey, sweetie. I was going to call you later today."

"To tell me you moved back home without calling?" Sandra sounded serious until she shrieked, "You have to come to my house for a party. I'm in the middle of redecorating my new place, but you know most of the people coming over. This Thursday. I need to see one of my oldest and dearest friends again."

A friend not out to trick her into a million-dollar home let Penny relax her shoulders. "Where are you now? Can you meet me for a latte at Sonoma's in a few hours?"

"What time?"

Glancing at her clock, she saw time moving fast. She'd need every minute to figure out where she was going to live. Biting her lip, she decided her answer: "Five o'clock? I have to finish apartment-hunting. Keep your fingers crossed for me."

"Deal. See you then. I'm so excited."

Smiling, Penny let herself relax again. She'd find a way to make living here work before she told her mother. Geneva Knightheart's opinion would diminish everything Penelope hoped and dreamed for. To begin with, the woman did not understand why a girl would major in mechanical engineering instead of something more feminine like psychology. Her mother loved figuring out ways to manipulate people and using their weaknesses to her own advantage. College had been her mother's way of starting her on the road to marrying men for money, but then so had her private school.

Penny's father had a sense of honor, though she hadn't known the man well. He'd had an affair, and stayed with his wife, despite all the drama he had to endure with Penny's mom. He eventually told his wife and stayed out of Penny's life for the most part, but at least the man struggled with trying to do the right thing. His quietness didn't bug her because her half-brother, Wyatt, was already one of her best friends before she knew the score that he was her half-brother through her father.

Too bad Wyatt was in Kurdistan on some secret military mission. She'd visit his son later as Aunt Penny.

All Penny had was her mom. Avoiding her mother kept her safe from exploding. She'd never be who her mother wanted her to be, and she'd do whatever it took to find a place and avoid having to stay with the mom she had nothing in common with.

At the second apartment, she scurried across the urine-smelling parking lot cluttered with broken beer bottles and litter. A couple screamed at each other in Spanish in the parking lot. She locked the car door, refusing to get out. Her pounding heart began to slow. This place was a slum. She backed out of the place, wondering if she would have had the same reaction had she not seen Jay's apartment first, with its elite security system and thick-armed doormen.

Jay. She needed to block him from her mind.

Where did she go now? She programmed her phone for the third place. Holding her breath, she hoped her last option of the day worked out. This one's address was not too far from her mother.

Letting her mind drift, she had to admit Jay's place had potential.

In college, she'd lived with a male roommate. Crawford had been so busy with sports that he had never been home much anyhow. And Jay had said he needed to focus.

While she drove, she wondered if she could—

No.

Pulling into the third place, she had hope. The place appeared quiet and peaceful. Good. She stepped out of her car, locked the door, and made her way to the front desk. The receptionist nodded, and Penny felt some enthusiasm spring up. The agent came out with a man a minute later, shaking hands. Waiting her turn, Penny told her, "Hi, I'm Penelope Knightheart. I called yesterday about an apartment."

"Ms. Knightheart, hello. Please come into my office for a minute. I rented our apartment this morning, but let me look up our next possible opening. Our residents often choose to stay here for years at a time."

"I can see why. The place is beautiful."

"Our next possible vacancy is next month. Is that good for you?"

With a rent of nine hundred she could live on her own without anyone, and the place seemed decent. "Okay. I'll make it work and stay with my mom until then."

"Great." The leasing agent typed into her computer, "We'll be needing first, last, and the security deposit."

Sighing, she signed a check and filled out the paperwork. For a month, she needed a place. She had run out of options, and this place was perfect. When done, she stood up, telling the agent, "Thank you."

"We'll see you soon."

Going to Jay's had appeal. She could taste the decadence in her mouth. But she couldn't. Walking to her car, she did the one thing she hated. She drove to her mother's.

The drive took less than fifteen minutes, but Penny stayed in her car for longer, staring at the two-story house with its palatial columns. The circular driveway wound around a large bronze fountain that sprayed water into the air. If Lars was home, her mother would feign exuberance about how her college graduate of a daughter needed to settle down, with a smile pasted on her face. If he was not home, her mother would lecture her about finding a man to sleep with and support her, without the painted smile. Either way, tonight wouldn't be fun. Groaning, she stepped out of the car.

Her back tensed before she knocked on the door. Her leg shook while she stood there with a bag over her shoulder. A second later, her mother opened the door, saying, "Penny, what are you doing here?"

"I told you I had a job offer in Miami. I looked all day, but the place I found isn't available till next month. I need to stay here, with you and Lars."

"Go stay with your friends."

"Mom, I'm your only child. Don't you care that I'll be on the street, homeless?"

Her mother grimaced. "Okay, you can sleep on our patio for the night. I'll figure out where to put you after that. Lars will be home later. He's in surgery number whatever, turning a former three-hundred-pound heifer into one hundred and fifty pounds of delight, complete with two-sizes-larger chest."

"Too much info. How are you?"

"Finally happy, sweetheart. Lars took me to Las Vegas because I had always wanted to sit beside a man in a high-stakes poker game, and he won."

"That's a stupid goal to have, Mom." Penny let that come out of her mouth before she bit her lip.

"Did I not teach you anything?"

_Here it comes._ "Teach me what?"

"Ferdinand—"

Penny closed her eyes. She knew this speech, all about how Penny always chose losers, but she corrected her mother anyhow. "Fernando. His name was Fernando."

"That boy you were sleeping with, he had no way of supporting you. Women do not pay for men. You stick with one who's the best option until an even better one appears."

"He was looking for a job, and we graduated at the same time. We had part-time jobs to make ends meet. Gainesville isn't a huge place, and we hoped to stay. Doesn't matter now. I left him for a job."

"You left him because he was no good for you. He had no money."

Looking out the window, her mother saw the rental. "Where is your car, honey?"

"It wouldn't have made the drive back. It was dying, so I gave it to Fernando. I also have to go to the dealership now that I'm back to buy one, plus I have to find some furniture."

"Sweetheart, go for men with money in the future. You'll be happier."

"Stop." Was there some way to make her mother stop? She was well acquainted with her mother's lack of moral fortitude. It gained her a new step-daddy every couple of years that had became a logistical nightmare throughout her childhood, Penny would never be the gold digger, and her mother sounded ridiculous and lacked any center of moral right or wrong. Staying here would drive her crazy. "Patio's out there?"

She didn't even rate a room here. She would be on display through the glass, but she had to sleep somewhere.

Walking away without finishing her conversation with her mother saved her sanity for the moment. After clearing off the day bed, she lay down.

Jay would never need her money. Paying Fernando's bills had slowed her savings, and she had learned not to date a man without a job. Hard work was its own reward. Fixing the pillow, she thought about Jay's dimples.

Jay's house and offer kept her safe from her mother. He'd work, focus, and escape his mother. Hmm. She fixed her shirt to be straight. She couldn't wait to get out of here. Was Jay serious about his motivation on why he needed her? His blue eyes that stared into hers gave her the impression he'd been earnest. But she could be seeing what she wanted.

The next morning, she woke up to her mother's whiny voice. "Lars, darling, do you think my butt could use another injection?"

Penny closed her eyes. She needed air. She could never be her mother, and she had to get out of here fast. She swallowed. Jay would be easier to take.

Staring at the street, she realized she needed coffee. Her regular morning wake-up sounded so inviting. Redirecting her car, she debated "Jay or Mom?"

Jay offered everything she'd dreamed of in a place, except living with him. Well, if she was honest with herself, she admitted she'd like him in "he's a good guy and a great friend" way.

She'd said that out loud. Talking to herself was never good.

On the other side, her mother made her want to scream with her loyalty of a gnat with men.

Penny knew without a doubt that she would never cheat on any man to move up the social ladder, and Jay would be all she ever needed in a man though it would never happen in a million years.

No. Cooling off would help her make sense. Coffee would make this headache go away.

When she stepped out of her car, she noticed his black Harley in the lot again. Blinking, she shook her head before walking in. It was kind of amusing to her that they had the same schedule and tastes when it came to morning coffee.

Jay hadn't seen her. His focus was his tablet and reading some pie chart with numbers. She put her head next to his to stare at the tablet before she told him, "Funny, you never had that look when we used to study together."

"Good morning," Jay said, and his smile brightened the whole place. He turned off the tablet and set it on the table. "This is important. It's my life, not homework."

Live with him. For a month. Living with him might be good. She'd never lived alone, and Miami did have an underside. "Where are you living now, Jay?"

"At Michael's. I've been there for two months now, and I need to get out."

"Why?"

"He doesn't let me focus at home."

Boys with trust funds tended to throw it around to control people. She lowered her eyes and asked, "Were you serious about your money being tied up?"

"My cash flow is tied up in a deal. It's why I need you on Friday to meet a few of my investors."

"Why me?"

"One of my biggest investors is conservative, and believes heavily in family values. He believes I might be too much of a carefree Miami guy out to make a fast deal, not caring about long-term."

"You're not."

"'Long-term' has always been a goal of mine. On Friday, you would truthfully say you've known me a long time, and that I've always done what I promised or set out to do."

She shrugged. "Okay. Easy enough."

Jay did what he needed to get what he wanted, but he'd also lie if he had something to get, whatever it was he saw. He couldn't have lost that part, but he did like to win. She wrinkled her brow and tried to figure him out. "Let's go back to your parents for a second. What happened with your mother?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Pen."

"She's not anything like mine."

"Penny, I need to be a man and create my own empire, away from my trust fund. She's having a hard time understanding that I'm doing things without her help now."

"I don't want to be anything like my mess of a mother."

His dimples smiled at her when he shook his head. "You'd never sleep around on anyone, Pen. You're one of the good girls."

Fumbling for her words, she settled on letting her heart speak. "You won't turn into a serial killer if I move in with you, though? I don't want to live with a crazy person."

His eyes opened wider. "I won't. Are you reconsidering?"

A comfortable warmth spread across her face, and she must have blushed. She ignored the heat inside her and nodded. "I have. I need a place for a month. I just can't stay with my mother."

"I can't stay at Michael's either. He's a good guy, but between him and Eva, I'm going insane. Tell me you're not going to go all dramatic on me."

"No. I have work Monday morning at Mueller Enterprises."

Pushing out the seat next to him, he pointed for her to sit. She did, then patted his shoulder. "Dimples, I'd love to live in your gorgeous place with you."

He put his phone on the table while he leapt to his feet, pulling her back up into a hug and twirling her around. Laughter erupted, uncontrollably. "You're an idiot. I'm getting the good end of this deal."

He set her down with her feet pointed forward. His adorable smile weakened her, making it harder to steady herself, though he stayed in her personal space. She'd find a way to repay him for taking her in. He told her, "Penny, working at home is going to be so much easier. I can sleep at night without expecting you to break through my firewalls."

"You're being paranoid, Dimples."

Walking away, she swayed her hips a little more, knowing he stared at her. "Pen, wait."

Looking over her shoulder, she winked while she lifted her arm. "I'm getting my coffee. Be right back."

Stepping away from Mr. Perfect, she relaxed. For the next month, she'd ignore any of his romantic entanglements. She had headphones, and living with him as a friend was something her mother had never done with any man. Whatever had happened to him, he needed her at the moment, and she could be his friend now and help him out.

Sitting at his table, he packed his bags, and asked, "Do you remember how to get to the place?"

"Sure." She had grown up in South Miami, before all the construction. "Where are you going?"

"I have an appointment to go round two with Eva in ten minutes. She knows we're done. She didn't take it well, but it's over. I'm going to get whatever box she intends to throw at my head, then let her have the final say. I'll call the doorman and give him your name so he can give you the key card. You can get in. Can I call you later when this is over? We both have a lot to do right now."

Putting her hands on his, she squeezed him in support. "Of course. I'll take measurements."

She had a roof over her head. Now all she had to do was buy something to sleep in tonight before she met Sandra.

# Chapter 6

Miracle Mile would not be in her price range at all. Jay and his high school friends shopped there. Penny sighed. She missed Gainesville a little. At least there she fit in. Miami had two sides, not three. The rich, and then the rest of the city no one mentioned. She called up Sandra and asked, momentarily thinking she was speaking to her mother and not her rich best friend, "Who has a warehouse membership that we know? I need a mattress."

"You are running a mile a minute, Penny."

"Right. Sandra. I'm sorry. I'm overwhelmed and looking for a membership card to one of those stores where we buy everything in bulk. I'm just moving back."

"Oh. We get gas there sometimes for the car. Stop at my store, take my card, and go."

Good. Leaving her stuff and only packing two suitcases meant she had no household goods, not even her measly college stuff. But a clean breakup with no hard feelings was worth the one coffee cup she now owned. Asking Sandra for help with a mattress would be out of the question, but she'd tip someone to tie it on the top of the car. When she left all her stuff to Fernando except her clothes, she hadn't left much. Used furniture inherited from other broke college students wouldn't last much longer, and now with a full-time position she could start fresh with everything. Penny liked having a plan. If she had to depend on Jay or anyone else when she could do it herself, then she'd miscalculated what she could do.

Most places let you set up a monthly payment plan, so she'd stick to a budget and forge into her life.

Living with Jay, though, pushed her moving date ahead. The wind at her back along with her instincts to stay with the man couldn't be ignored. He'd changed, and she liked what she had seen so far. Parking her car, she brushed off a little dust in her hair from the earlier ride on his bike.

Running into the boutique, she stopped short. The customers wore heels and carried designer bags. Her jeans were threaded and ripping at the bottom near the hem, and her old sneakers had no chance of ever being white again. Pulling her shoulders together, she slowed her run to a friendly stroll to the counter.

Blonde, shorthaired, petite Sandra, with a huge smile for everyone in life, put boxes down and jumped up and down, hugging her when Penny came closer.

The place was white, bridal, and expensive. Sandra bounced up, squealed, then hugged Penny for a second time. Finally, she calmed down and said, "I've missed you. How are you?"

Did Sandra inherit the trust fund before she turned twenty-five, like Penny had remembered? Looking at the diamond earring in her friend's coiffed look, she could see Sandra was doing well. Penny told her, "I'm good. My life is working out. How did you afford a wedding store here? The competition for the socialites must be fierce."

"You're speaking to a socialite, or so everyone sees. Business is doing pretty well, and I sold my own design a few weeks ago. I'm so excited."

"Amazing. I thought your parents were against you designing clothes."

"They were and still are. I had my inheritance, plus Jay helped me out with financing. I'm in better financial shape than my competition and making money. Soon my own wedding dresses will be the premiere gown sold in my store."

"Jay helped you out?"

"Yeah. He's good with finding investors. If you need his help, ask him. He'll help you, Penelope."

She never wanted to ask anyone for help. Looking down to the floor, she fidgeted while she admitted, "I'm moving in with him."

"What?"

Flinching, she hoped Sandra wasn't thinking anything bad. She eyed the front door to escape before telling her, "Roommates only. He has a girlfriend."

"Penelope, he's changed— Wait." Sandra's phone beeped. Looking down, she told Penny, "Had. Jay dated Eva, but they broke up. She's coming over here in less than five minutes."

No way. This couldn't be happening right now. She needed to get out of Sandra's shop fast. Eva equaled drama, and Penny didn't need to look her in the eye right now. She hadn't told Jay to break up with her. Sandra picked up her phone to text, and Penny begged, "Please, don't tell her about me. Let me ease into it, after I get furniture and a good night's sleep. I don't want to be a part of this."

Sandra nodded when Penny's phone beeped. She glanced down. _Meet me at Tiffany's Treasures. We need to furnish the apartment, and you'll want some input._

Texting back, she asked him, _If they don't have anything, do you have a warehouse membership?_

_Yes._

She handed Sandra's card back to her. "I'll buy my own membership if I must today. It's for the best. Thank you, and looking forward to Thursday."

"Me too."

She hugged Sandra and went back to her rental car. Tomorrow she'd get a car. At least living with Dimples meant she could use her small savings on an auto lease deposit, getting something that could last. When she worked, she'd take a portion to save up another deposit for when she moved.

Fernando, her ex-boyfriend, had lived off her savings, so not having his bills freed up some cash, too. Jay would never borrow a dime without paying her back, so she'd never have to worry about him.

Driving in the Grove was a trip back to another universe. All tourists ever saw would be this part of town and South Beach. Jay likely visited there every weekend too. Maybe the motorcycle was a new, flashy toy he'd grow tired of in a year, though his scar indicated more. Penny shook her head. She couldn't dwell on him while she found parking.

While looking at his choices, she'd figure out what sheets she'd buy, and find out how the breakup had gone for him. Eva was an award-winning actress. Jay must have been hit with a shovel of emotions before he walked away. Penny sighed. Jay had been so good to her today,

Finding her sunglasses, she walked into the posh store.

# Chapter 7

Looking at the front of the building, she remembered how her mother had drooled in this store countless times, always hoping the next guy she married had more cash. Geneva hated being poor, and talked about some idyllic childhood that had been stolen from her. Without grandparents to ask, Penny had no reason to be suspicious, but the story had never made much sense.

Lars had kept her mother on a short leash with the finances, much to Mom's chagrin. Penny smiled knowing how her mother would swoon with delight if she'd been invited to shop for furniture here.

Jay waved to her at the door. When giving her a hug, she bumped into his briefcase. Pulling back, she listened to him. "We need to pick out a couch, stuff for my bedroom and my office, and furnish the rest of the place. For your help in picking this, I'll buy your bedroom set."

Her jaw might have fallen to the floor.

"Add a dining room to the list too. I don't need much, but we will need to eat somewhere."

"Dimples, you can't be serious. I'm moving out in a month."

He ushered her inside the store without batting an eye. "Let's go."

"A bed in here will cost a few thousand dollars."

"I have to work. I called ahead and I have two options."

What did he want from her? She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Which are?"

"I'd pay an interior decorator five thousand to do all this. She can be here in an hour."

She tilted her head, weighing what he said. "Then why would I be here?"

"I'd like your opinion either way, as you'll be living there. Option two is that I buy your furniture or pay you the money in cash. Doesn't matter what you choose, but I have a situation at work to deal with."

Five thousand dollars. Her mother would say take the money, but she would never. If she picked out a set that matched the rest of it, she could leave it at his place. He'd have bought it anyhow. Nodding her head, she met his eyes and relaxed her shoulders. "I'll hang every picture, Dimples. I like being busy."

His face relaxed, and his blue eyes almost gleamed with happiness now. Whatever had happened to him earlier today had stolen some of his energy. "Thank you, Pen. I need to sit with my computer and not be bothered."

"Funny seeing you serious about something." He walked her into the store as a sales associate opened the door for her. "Makes you sexy."

He stopped moving. She waved him in. It took him a few seconds to recover. Odd. Strolling to the living-room section, which was first, she scanned the showroom. Jay's hand went to her back when the saleslady came up to ask them, "May I help you?"

"We need to furnish our new place. I hope you have a few hours."

"You were both smart to come in here. Is there a budget I'm working with or is the sky the limit?"

"Penny will keep me honest. She's making the decisions. Would you mind shopping while I connect to the Wi-Fi to work?"

"You have something important." She nodded her understanding and hugged him, then told the saleslady, "Let's get started."

Jay found a seat near the door and opened his tablet, staring intently. What business did the man have? Investors and a financial company made sense, but something else was driving him to be that focused. She'd never asked, but for a place to live while she settled into her new life, she'd shop. Sleeping on a bed for a month from Tiff's would be heavenly.

The salesclerk pointed out hand-carved foreign chairs that would not be comfortable to sit on. Penny preferred a level of comfort, and Jay needed a place to relax. She found a light tan leather living-room set with one of those chaise lounges she'd seen in magazines all her life. She peeked at the price tag—for this place, the number sounded normal. Jay didn't operate in her limited world, but it was far from the most expensive item.

For the dining, she went more modern, streamlined, keeping that under what she expected as well. The saleswoman pointed out strange table designs complete with hammered-in monkey arms holding up a glass table, but Jay would prefer simple. For his office furniture, she remembered the three times she'd ever been to his bedroom in high school to collect a book or something for him. Even then he had used a dash of purple, knowing it was royal. She picked out teak, but found a deep purple desk set that he'd like.

She glanced over at him. He didn't blink at anything going past him except his tablet.

Following along, they reached the bedroom section. In bedroom furniture, she saw something she loved. She'd be the princess in any fairytale in that set. For him, she picked out something more boxy and masculine.

When they finished, they returned to Jay. He stared, engrossed in a spreadsheet. "Dimples, we're ready for you."

His eyes stared up but his mouth fell open. "You finished shopping already, Pen?"

"Of course." She nodded then told him the news. "Issue is they cannot deliver until tomorrow, and you're paying."

He took her hand to help stand up before he let go. In his future life Jay would make any socialite a perfect husband. He let her make all the house decisions, and she'd be there for only a month. While waiting for the salesgirl to put the receipt together, Penny told him, "I'm surprised you're not engaged to one of the Miracle Mile women. Your mother must have pushed you on the yacht club at some point."

"I'm a member. We're going with those people on Friday, remember."

Fun. He handed over the card. "I don't want to go back to my mother's."

"Don't. Stay."

She laughed. "Are we camping without furniture for the night, then?"

"I suppose." Moving would be a long process. "I do have camping bags."

"Won't Michael miss you?" He lived with Sandra's brother, though that combination made no sense in her head. Michael generally despised everything he saw, looking down his nose at the world.

"He'll be relieved I'm not coming back. Is there anything else we need to buy?"

She rolled her eyes. Furniture hardly made a house a home. "I still need to buy sheets, pots, pans, lights, bathroom hangers, etc."

"I have an idea."

"Another one?" The racing of her heart told her she wouldn't be offended.

"We'll stay at the place. Tonight will be bonding. Too bad we don't have marshmallows to roast on an open fire."

Biting her second finger in her hand for a second, she asked a question, with a lilt in her voice. "Does the camp gear have an air mattress?"

"Yes."

Smiling, she joked, "You're not a nature/hunter type like we went to school with."

"That was Wyatt." He signed the receipt and took his card back. Glancing over, she saw she'd spent more than she thought. Looking at him, she asked, "Where did the extra four thousand come in?"

"Delivery and setup," the salesclerk told her. "You won't lift a finger. Everything will be perfect, and if you need any furnishings, we're associated with Christina's Collectibles. I can call ahead to ensure someone is ready to help you with everything you two might need."

"That's across the street," Jay said. "Can you handle shopping there while I finish with my report? Then we can go out to eat and relax. It's been a long day."

Helping him made her happy and lifted the guilt that she'd be sleeping at his place. She nodded. "I'll be like that my first day on Monday. Walk with me." He opened the front door of the place. "Did you like your sheets at your parents' house?"

"I'll like whatever you pick."

She raised her eyebrows to joke. "I could pick pink flowered bedsheets."

"You won't fail me like that, cutie, and get your stuff too. Consider the sheets part of the set. You're taking care of the details."

"The business deal you're working on is a big deal for you."

"Biggest one I've been associated with so far."

Opening the door to Christina's, he nodded while finding a seat near the door. The salesclerk came over. "Did you walk over from Tiffany's?"

"Yes. I need to get furnishings."

Jay smiled, then stepped back to let her make the calls. "You and your boyfriend came to the right place. Let's get started."

Penny hesitated for a second. She didn't correct the mistake. Spending his money like she was, the mistake was honest. Penny never dared to believe it, and Jay didn't act like a boyfriend. He was a dear friend, and that was what she needed at the moment.

# Chapter 8

Walking out of the store with the promise everything would arrive tomorrow morning and be unpacked, Penny stood next to Jay, who closed his tablet the second she did. Not the first time he'd done that. "What kind of business did you start?"

"It's online mostly, but I'm financing businesses and taking over failing ones if I can turn them around."

"Turning sinking ships around. Sounds good. Financial stability has always been on my list of accomplishments in life. You have no idea what it's like growing up with a fiscally irresponsible mother. I don't want to subject any child of mine to having to become the adult."

"You won't." He put his tablet in his briefcase.

Living with him for a month meant she wouldn't get too attached, but spending time with Jay sounded tempting. They'd never work out as a couple, and her little crush would be one-sided. He had options way beyond an old friend, and she had a new life to begin. "With getting a new place in a month, buying a car this weekend, and paying off my student loans, I'll be on a budget for the rest of my life."

"Not tonight."

"Every night."

Reaching out, he touched her shoulder, reminding her of a friend. Her muscles relaxed. She needed friends more than anything else anyhow, and needed to set her head right for the next month. Glancing away, she hid her shiver when he said, "Look, you did most of the work today. Let's drop off the sleeping bags, then head out to someplace near our new home for dinner, where we can talk. I'm buying."

She had to set boundaries. "I don't want to put you out."

"Relax. I'm hungry and I owe you. Today has been a long day for both of us."

She shrugged, then he walked her to the parking lot. "Okay. Tomorrow will be busy too. Furniture moves in, and I need to go car shopping. I'm afraid that will take forever."

Looking at her bag, she fidgeted to find her keys when he told her, "I'll go with you. It's mostly the financial deal that holds everything up."

He stared right at her and she couldn't meet his gaze. "You're busy."

"Free Wi-Fi is available everywhere. I'll talk to them to speed up the deal while you shop. Shouldn't take long."

Pulling away, she gazed out the window, "You don't have to. I already need to ask you a favor."

"What?"

Friends helped, and she'd do this for anyone. Looking back at his blue eyes, she lowered her voice. "Do you think you can follow me to the airport to return the car? Moving home from college, the post-college part-time work started to take a toll on me. I haven't stopped moving in days."

"I can see you're on overdrive, cutie, and I've been working. Don't worry about it. We're friends. And tonight, we should relax, talk, and get to know what happened in the five years since we spent time together."

"Cutie" had been what he called her all the time. It hadn't been a big deal, so why did her pulse race? She forced herself to walk slow and not let him see how he affected her when they walked out of the store. "Perfect. Plus we should lay down a few ground rules and signals. I don't want to interrupt any important date you have. Meet you at the condo?"

Leaving her at her car door, he told her, "See you there."

Gripping the wheel of the car, she shook off her desires. She'd never be his and needed to stop this train of thought. She'd set up a few house rules to make transitioning easier, but her heart racing had to be from excitement. Her first job. She'd moved home in a day. She'd accomplished her goals without her mother. Everything was falling into place now, but then, getting good grades all her life had meant she always had to stay focused on what she wanted.

Jay would be who her mother would choose for her. She'd never turn into her mother, though the fear of ending up becoming a gold-digging wannabe socialite slowed down her driving and her pulse. What if living with Jay meant she'd fall at his feet, begging him to love her, and she'd lose all her honor and hopes of becoming a solid, independent person?

Pulling into the garage, she shook off the thought.

She refused to let that happen. Jay was her friend, not the love of her life. She knew the score.

She glimpsed his motorcycle parking next to her before she opened her door. Stretching her legs, she caught him staring at them when she brushed off her jeans. Did he notice she had worn them yesterday? She opened the trunk and took out a bag. He came beside her and took one of her two boxes. "Leave me the key and I'll get the second one once I put this down."

Nodding, she accepted that friends helped each other. She handed over the keys. "Thank you. I want to shower fast before we head out. I have toiletries in my bag. The second box is mostly housewares I took when I moved out of my ex-boyfriend's place. It's not much, but we can use a pot or something if we need it."

"Ex. I still need to ask about this guy." They walked to the elevator. "We graduated last year, and you didn't come back right away. Is he the reason you stayed away?"

"No. Yes."

"Which one? What happened to you?"

Telling him this meant she stayed real and didn't hide her issues. "I couldn't get a job. I didn't want to come home without one. And, er, I was living with a boyfriend who didn't have internet or much of anything."

"What? Why would you date someone who can't afford the internet, Pen?"

He sounded like her mother. Rolling her eyes up to the metallic ceiling, she told him, "It's who the person is on the inside that counts, not his bank account. I don't hold you having more against you, Jay. You're a sweet guy."

"I'm not sweet, Pen. Only you think that."

She met his glance again. "Untrue. Sandra sings your praises."

"She's my cousin. What happened to this boyfriend?"

The elevator opened right into their apartment. Walking out, she answered, "Nothing. Turns out I shouldn't have bothered with him, though he was nice enough. He tried hard, but I never once had that thrill. Breaking up was easy. How was the big breakup with Eva?"

"Take that shower. I'll get the other box. We'll discuss Eva at dinner."

"Fair enough. If you didn't love her, it's best to end things."

Her neck pinched backward before she forced herself to relax. She'd never be gorgeous like Eva. Jay would find someone in his league and she needed to keep her guard up.

"We'll talk." He stepped into the elevator and the doors closed behind him.

Eva must have broken part of Jay. She'd always been closer to him in school anyhow, and quiet around Eva. Penny had always intended to study mechanical engineering and never lived her life larger than the rest. She'd been the girl behind her glasses no one had noticed. Eva possessed that quality that made everyone who knew her love her, and Penny could never hate her.

Picking up her bag, she went to the empty bathroom in her room. The walk-in shower appeared to be designed to not need a shower curtain. The glass-plated doors would keep the water from splashing out. She sighed, then closed the door. She bit her lip to check out this luxury, then turned on the water.

She hadn't expected rainfall on her head or the sounds of the rainforest to greet her ears. Grinning, she realized she had a spa going on in this bathroom.

When she stepped out who knows how long later, her shoulders had lost all their tension. She sighed. She'd packed a cotton dress in case she needed it and decided to put it on. Ten minutes after, she joined Jay in the empty living room. He was squatting with his tablet. "You work more than I expected you would."

"I might never have earned your high grades, but I didn't have to. My grades were always good, and I am good at my job. The potential for this project could make me richer than my parents without using one dime of their money."

She met his eyes and understood something. "We're both seeking freedom. You'll get there sooner than me. Student loan drama. But I'm so happy for you. Dimples, that's amazing."

She pulled him into a hug, where he squeezed her hard for a split second, giving her a preview of his rock-hard body under his clothes, before he pushed her away fast. "Okay, no hugging. Let's go to dinner."

"I'm sorry, Penny. You surprised me. Hugging can stay. We've known each other forever."

The elevator door opened right into his living room. She'd seen the setup in movies, but until now she'd never experienced such openness. She blinked and stared at the empty elevator. She'd have to get over the shock. Then he put his tablet on the counter and powered it off, and she gazed only at him. He walked over and joined her. She swallowed then whispered, "We're friends. I trust you. Else I wouldn't live here with you. Tonight, I'm buying you a drink."

"Other way around. You did the work for me today. You get rewarded with dinner and drinks."

He led her into a small, quaint oceanfront hidden restaurant in the Grove. She smiled. "This is one of the yacht people watering holes. I missed the ocean. You don't get to see much of it in Gainesville."

"We'll plan a trip to the beach soon," he promised when the waiter came to hand them menus. "Two mimosas, please."

She raised her eyebrow. "You had one the last time we were all together in high school to say goodbye at Sandra's house."

"I missed you and the rest of the coffee-shop crew, as Sandy called us. Most people make the friends you miss in college, and I made friends. But not seeing you again, or Sandra, Eva, Michael, and Wyatt, hit me hard last year. I was happy with my computer contact, but I should have wanted more. My mother kept me away, and Wyatt's in Kurdistan."

"Wyatt's serving overseas? No one's heard from him."

"What are you talking about? We talk on the phone once a month."

His jaw dropped again. Funny. "Wyatt wasn't the guy, was he?"

"No. He's nice guy, and I collected stuff in college to send to his base or to his family."

The waiter brought the mimosas. Penny smiled, raising her glass, and said, "To our new beginning. Jay and Pen's new place."

Clinking glasses with her, he nodded in agreement. "Cheers."

In another life, she'd have hoped for something more. "And to our new jobs and future success."

After clinking glasses again, they took another sip. Laughing, she told him, "We need to talk about rules. I have one. If you bring a date over, she goes to your room, avoiding the common areas. If I start dating anyone, I'll do the same thing."

"Let's plan on at least once a week having a meal or a drink together. We need to stay current with each other."

"Then spill. How did the breakup with Eva go?"

"She acted surprised when she shouldn't have been. We never...er...she knew we weren't getting along and I wasn't happy. I told her. It's done, and I don't want to think about Eva anymore."

"Why did you date her, then? You know she's dramatic, and it wouldn't be easy."

"She reminded me of happier times in my life, but Eva could never pretend to be what I wanted."

"Exes are that for a reason. Where did you live before today?"

"At my parents'. I had my own side to the house, but it was suffocating. I needed to get in this place. When I saw you the other day, I realized who would be perfect. You."

She laughed. "Perfect, describing me? We're friends for good reasons."

Jay had a twinkle in his eye. She caught a glimpse of it and smiled.

# Chapter 9

Jay sat still and waited in the dark until he was positive Penny slept on the air mattress. He stared hard at her reflection in the moonlight, then snuck into his office to go up stairs to the pool. He could speak freely outside. The pool had seats, and he needed to make a call.

A calmness entered his heart. Living with Penny was going to change his life, and for the better. His shoulders rolled back and he smiled. She'd be perfect as his date to meet Mr. Danvers. He picked up the phone, but part of him held back.

He'd never hurt her. He hesitated before he hit call. His former kidnapper worked for his mother, and Penny would need protection.

Jay clutched his phone, took a seat, and turned on his tablet. His ears sharpened to the splashing of his pool while his eyes focused on the intense light blue under the water. His pulse calmed and he dialed. Two rings later, Gonzales answered, "Hello?"

Jay set his jaw and kept the pitch in his voice low. "Mr. Gonzales, it's Jay Marshall."

"The boy?"

With a sharp movement, he pushed his chin up. "I'm an adult now."

"Why are you calling me?"

His chest thrust out. He'd cut the cords to his mother's backup. "I'd like you to end your business with my mother."

"It's profitable for me. Your mother is a smart woman."

He inhaled deeply. "I'll pay you to retire from this business."

"How much?"

Good. He straightened his legs in the chair. "Last year, you were paid two hundred and fifty million dollars. The profits for the hotel investment have dwindled with the economy. I'll come in and pay you a billion dollars to end all future business and take this one off your hands."

"Your parents were wrong with what they did to you."

A fluttering in his chest started. He could pay off his mother's help and end all control she tried to exert over him. "It was a long time ago."

"Yet, this is a personal family matter. Let my lawyers draw up a deal and we'll be in touch."

With his hand on his knee and a smile on his face, Jay kept his cool. "Perfect."

"Son, I understand your mother. She's made me money with her insights, but everything comes to an end. Understand any deal we finalize is because you offered me enough to walk away."

He clenched his fists to hold his composure to finish. "Of course."

Jay hung up the phone and a wide grin grew on his face. Tonight, he'd taken steps to win. No one would have power over him again.

A dark cloud came to his thoughts. Whenever the deal with Gonzales happened, Penny could not be anywhere near. An angel like her would never betray him for cold, hard cash. Unlike any other woman he met, Penny's smile warmed him, and unlike anyone else right now, his instincts told him to trust her.

# Chapter 10

Brushing her hair one more time, she knew that shower had taken longer than she intended. The air mattress deflated while she moisturized her face. Jay could have gone for coffee at this point without her. She threw her jeans and a clean shirt on before she ran out to see Jay sitting on the floor with his tablet. She spied his camping backpack with a rollup sleeping bag neatly on the kitchen counter before she went to stand in front of him. "Thanks for waking up early to drive me to the airport and waiting for me. I made an appointment at the dealer online for the car I liked, but traffic near Miami International gets evil later in the day."

"Sleeping on the floor wasn't exactly what I thought I'd be doing. We need to be home at noon so you can deal with the furniture people. Right now, though, I need my coffee."

"We'll stop. I'm glad we found a way for me to help you. It makes me relax knowing I can live here." She smiled while folding his sleeping bag once more, making it smaller. "Let's go."

"You can do whatever you want, Pen. You're smart."

He saw her brains, not a dazzling personality. She let that sink into her head, glancing away. Heading out to their vehicles, she told him, "It was you that helped me survive high school. Being the only girl on scholarship in my class meant everyone knew I couldn't afford to go there."

"You were smarter than them and deserved to be there. See you at the rental place."

She watched him mount his motorcycle. The rich prep boy turned jeans-wearing motorcycle-riding hotness revved up more than his motorcycle engine, though she couldn't let her feelings get too serious. He'd never look at her. Brains. It was all he saw. He broke up with beauty personified yesterday. Longing for that man who didn't notice her at all made her the fool. Shaking it off, she started the car, heading for the highway to get to the airport.

Forty minutes later, she signed the paper, handed the car keys over, and met Jay in the parking lot. He offered his arm, which she took. She appeared like a fresh-out-of-college student, and he looked put together. He motioned to help her climb on. She followed, grabbed hold of his waist, and held on for when he went fast. Inhaling the scent of his warm body unleashed her imagination.

The strong shoulders on his muscular body meant he'd look like Mr. Perfect on the beach. To compare, she'd look embarrassed next to the bodies meant to be worshipped. It would be better to avoid the option and not see his sexy body underneath his clothes. She'd put that on the list of rules for what to wear outside the separate bedrooms. It was okay. She needed to stop obsessing about him anyhow, though the tropical heat outside wasn't the only thing getting under her skin.

When they pulled into the dealer, she released him, feigning tremendous interest in the vehicles around them. Hopefully, her face didn't show her blush.

"Car dealers are notorious for taking too long with the paperwork. I'm going to talk to the finance people and sit with my tablet while you shop. I don't want to be here all day."

Slowing down, she stared at a yellow car. "Perfect. I'll find you."

He nodded before she walked away to look at a black sedan, though she swore someone watched her hips sway. She must have imagined it, and she kept her silence. When he went inside, she moved to the front door. At the entry, she picked a younger salesman. "I'm looking for Kenny. I have an appointment to talk about a car."

He smiled at her. "I'm Kenny, making you Penelope Knightheart. This way."

Her heart didn't race when she saw the plain white four-door small car. But she didn't need to love a car. It would be cheap on gas and have affordable payments. The car didn't look like much of anything, but it would work fine. While she was eying the car, another salesman came over to talk to Kenny. She stepped away to find something to like about her choice when Kenny said to her, "I'm shocked, actually. We have a mint condition Jeep Wrangler, black with tan roof, priced at the same amount this white one is. Would you like to see that one first before it sells to someone else?"

Her jaw dropped. "What? That's my favorite car ever. I have wanted one all my life. I need to see that."

Two minutes later, she smiled. She'd figure out the gas later. Wow. Her eyes must still look like saucers, and she didn't care. She almost tripped while staring. The machine seemed brand new. "How many miles?"

"One thousand."

That was it? She took the seat to take a test drive while suppressing a giggle. While test-driving the car, her mouth wouldn't form the question for a few minutes. The smoothness of the ride left butterflies in her stomach. She'd be in heaven with this car. Tilting her head to the side, she asked, "Why is the Jeep priced so low?"

The man gazed to the ground before he answered. "We're running a special a day on cars we don't specialize in to get them off the lot."

She gave him a crisp nod when they headed back into the lot. Smiling to herself, she told him, "Keep the keys. I'll buy this one."

Inside the office, Jay sat silent in the corner, waiting for her and working on his tablet, as always. The seriousness on his face showed his concentration. He didn't notice her when she walked past. She sat down in Kenny's cubicle and the paperwork came ten minutes later. When done, she ran to Jay and hugged his shoulders, despite the fact he was working. She noticed a spreadsheet with his mother's name on it before he turned it off to hug her. Jumping up and down, she told him, "I bought a Jeep. Tonight, I'm driving us to dinner."

His chin sat nicely on her head while he hugged her. "I'm happy for you. Let's get home, cutie. The furniture arrives."

Jay found a spot near a window in his bare office and squatted on the floor with his laptop. His tablet charged in the plug next to him, and he sipped his coffee. She watched him and nodded to herself. Tomorrow she worked. Yeah. Life would be easier when she had his focus on work and a design due. She cleaned off the kitchen and her leg muscles quivered. Nervous energy needed a release without staring at Jay. She needed to run. In the kitchen, she put her pots and pans away and stared at the clock to see she had an hour, before calling out, "Be right back."

"Okay." His voice echoed in the halls.

Her sneakers squeaked on the floor when she ran to her car. Food shopping would be fast when it was simple meals for a few days. The grocery store wasn't far, so she hopped into her car, which purred when it started. With her hands behind the wheel, she raced the short distance on the open road. After parking her car, she jumped out, almost running into Fernando. She blinked when he smiled. "Penelope, you look good. New car?"

She had left him in Tallahassee. "What are you doing here?"

"I had a few days off and wanted to check on you. I should have told you a few things before, and I need to apologize—"

"I'm happy." Interrupting him, she told him what she could. "I've got a new place, a new roommate for a month, a new job, a new car. You shouldn't be here."

Jay's blue eyes and determined chin flashed in her mind. The man worked hard, and she always respected work.

Fernando tried to take her hand in his, but she stepped back. "Baby girl."

"Go home. I'm not your baby any more, Fernando." The relationship between them had never brought her joy. It was easy having a partner in her determination not go back to Miami, but she had grown up now.

"Penny."

The unmistakable voice belonged to none other than Eva. Turning around, Penny saw the dark-haired beauty with ice-blue eyes and flawless complexion. Suppressing a groan, she pasted a smile on her face while Eva joined them in the parking lot. Did she live in the neighborhood? Blinking rapidly, she knew she needed to escape. She refused to get involved with Eva and Jay. She didn't have nearly that kind of power and would be a damaged bystander in the fireworks. When Eva came close, Penny hugged her. "Eva, it's good to see you."

"How is Jay?"

Sandra must have told her about the living arrangements. "Good. Fernando, this is Eva. We went to high school together."

Fernando couldn't speak. Good. Eva still had that wow. Penny inched back toward her Jeep.

Eva nodded her head at Fernando, saying, "Hello. It's nice to meet a friend of Penny's."

Fidgeting, she reached for the door to her SUV. "I have to get going."

"Wait," Eva called out, tapping her feet. "We have to catch up. You've rekindled your friendships with Sandra and Jay, and I want to be on the list. You are going to Sandra's party?"

Eva tolerated her in high school due to their mutual friend, Sandy. They were not close without the cute blonde between them. She'd have to find a way out of that somehow. Having Eva upset at anything was always something to avoid. "I have to go."

"We should get together tomorrow. Meet me at our coffee shop," Eva told her.

"Okay, if I can" Her pulse spiked before she peeled out of the parking lot as she could get groceries elsewhere, where less people knew her.

After parking her car in the assigned spot in the lot, she put her head on the wheel to calm down. She counted to three before she peeked up, seeing the moving trucks. They were early. Racing to the elevator with her few bags of groceries, she joined the furniture on its ride up. Jay was in the living room directing people when she stepped into the place. Going over to him, she put her hand on his arm, silently telling him she'd do the rest.

He patted her hand, then walked away. She'd do this job, then tell him about running into Eva. Without a second thought, she pointed to where everything went and had the movers change where stuff had been put down.

Four hours later, she stood in the living room exhausted. She had a bed to sleep in for now, a car, a job starting, and once she bought some new work outfits, she'd be happy.

Jay peeked out. "Everything's done?"

"Yeah. Everyone's gone. I never ate lunch, so would you like to grab an early dinner?"

"Love to. I'm hungry too. Where did you disappear to earlier?"

She found a sweater, then joined him in the living room again to leave. "I wanted to make us some lunch, but I ran into Eva and Fernando."

"Who's Fernando?"

"The ex-boyfriend." His eyebrows rose. "And I'm meeting Eva for lunch tomorrow."

"Don't tell her you're living with me. It won't go over too well this soon."

"She sounded like she knew already."

"I don't want her striking out at you for things you're not a part of."

He'd never choose a girl like her. She guessed that, but hearing it still hit her hard. Eva might blame her for Jay, though in the name of old friendships, especially their mutual friend, Sandra, Penny would take that blame graciously. It would be impossible for any guy to choose brains when beauty shone so brightly. Miami bred the importance of radiating beauty as being the most important trait for any woman to possess, and Jay had grown up here.

# Chapter 11

Having Jay in her car somehow made driving in rush-hour traffic tolerable. She examined every car on the ride while not looking at him during their conversation, which helped keep her voice steady.

Jay broke the silence and asked, "At UM we used to come here every Wednesday."

She smiled then answered, "You said they were like you. Keep any friends?"

He turned toward her and her pulse increased. "From my fraternity. I kept connections."

She tilted her head toward him. "Dimples, it doesn't surprise me at all you joined one of those."

His eyes widened. "You didn't?"

She shook her head. "No. I had no time for parties. I worked."

He pointed her to Monty's, the open pier with a cool breeze. "Found time for Fernando, though."

Shrugging, she replied, "We worked together at the burger place. Then we dated and decided to room together, despite my mother's protests."

"You don't do what your mother wants," Jay surmised.

Looking over, she met his clear blue eyes and softened. "I try not to."

"If you run into mine, let me know."

She pulled into the adjacent parking lot, scouting for a spot. "Sure."

He pointed one out and she followed. "The happy-hour crowd will still be here. It's possible we'll run into someone."

"I haven't been here in years. They better still have the chicken sandwich."

She smiled, remembering. The place had a decent-priced menu, old-school Florida laid-back ambiance, and a mix of college students, working stiffs, and yachters who parked next to the place. The place had a vibrancy during the day that reminded anyone who visited that South Florida got the tropical air too.

They found a table near the back, and he ordered beer and wine for the table. Sinking into the back of her seat, she relaxed. Everything would be fine.

"Penelope?"

Not who she expected. Her hands dropped to her sides and her eyes flew open. No. Not now.

"It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Hernandez," Jay told her mother. Hernandez being the fifth husband.

"It's Mrs. Lars Anderson these days," her mother corrected him. Stepfather number eight, not that Jay needed to know the rotation. It was possible Penny had missed one or two.

"Mom. We're getting something to eat." Biting her bottom lip, she hoped her mother would leave quickly.

She twisted in her chair as her mother put her hand on her arm. "John Jay Marshall, you are looking as handsome as ever. He's much cuter than Ferdinand, sweetie."

"Fernando." Her mother never called him by his name because he was poor. In Miami the class system remained in full force, though Geneva intended to keep climbing the ladder any way possible. "But you remember Jay's name so clearly."

"You were John in high school, but Jay is more handsome. You've filled out quite nicely. But I haven't seen my daughter in almost a year, would you mind giving us a minute?"

Jay must have seen the panic in her eyes when she stared into his baby blues. "I'll be at the bar, right over there." He whispered to her, "Give her five minutes, Pen."

Frowning, she nodded and took strength from Jay when he pointed to his seat at the bar. Her mother took his seat and she mocked, "Please, sit down. We have so much to talk about, don't we, Mom?"

Her mother leaned forward. "Don't let your face freeze like that. I have one question, though: did you dump Frankie for Jay, sweetie?"

"Fernando. And no. Jay's my friend."

"'Friend' as in you arrive in Miami yesterday, stay with me one night, then don't call your mother because you've been busy breaking one of the richest men in town up with his girlfriend?"

No one would believe that one. Eva and Jay were gorgeous. Penny didn't have the height, her hips were a little too wide, and her face lacked the unique goddess quality that Eva had. Penny considered herself pretty enough, but not in that league. "Mom, it's not like that."

"It's exactly like that. Have you slept with him to confirm your place in his life?"

"MOM!"

Jay interrupted from behind. "Where did you hear that?"

Her blush must have reached her toes, and she stared down at her feet. He walked past and stood next to Penelope. She'd watched him protecting her, and all she could do was study her shoes.

Her mother told them, "It was in the newspapers. You were shopping and admitted you were dating. I woke up upset that my daughter didn't call me."

The store. Sliding down in her chair, Penny hoped to disappear. It was her fault.

"Tell everyone you know that Penelope and I are dating. She'll be with me at the benefit on Friday."

Raising her eyebrows, she stopped moving. His date. Gulping for air, she didn't know how she'd handle this. "Mom, I'll call you tomorrow. I need to talk to Jay."

"No. Are you staying with him tonight? I can't walk away not knowing where my daughter is sleeping."

"Ye-ah," she stammered, not raising her eyes. Her mother must be loving this. "Jay and I are staying in the same place for now. The place I rented isn't available till next month. I'll talk more tomorrow, in private."

High pitched, but her voice grew smoother. Why would Jay lie? And to her mother? Her muscles went rigid while she sat in the chair, unmoving.

Geneva jumped up with a smile on her face. She'd get hell for that one. He had wanted to keep their living together away from Eva, but he claimed her as his pretend date to his mother. This wasn't making much sense.

Her mother walked away from the table, and Penny kept silent until Jay took his seat. Looking over her shoulder to ensure her mother didn't listen to them, she glared at him. "Why did you tell my mother that? I agreed to be your date on Friday, but lying to my mother about us is not something I like."

His leg brushed against hers under the table while he scooted closer, then pulled back. She kept her chin high while he told her, "Look, you avoid her. I get that, but she has a big mouth. If she tells lots of people, it becomes easier on me."

"Of course it's about you. And my life becomes hell. Jay. We need to tell the truth."

"I need you to pretend to be my date, and my girlfriend."

Her eyes narrowed as she snapped, "Why? You get offers."

"Not from you, Penelope. And you're who I need."

"You don't make any sense."

He took her hand. This time she didn't pull away. "Please. I need this."

"Tell me why."

"Business. I'm at a phase in my work where I must appear stable, on a path to a family life, and not reckless and irresponsible. In finance, dating Eva made me appear too much of a risk-taker, and my clients became uncomfortable. You're sweet, kind, adorable, and smart."

In what kind of universe did Jay work? "Was all of yesterday a plot to get me to move in for the month?"

"I didn't set it up that way, but it worked out to my advantage. Can you please do this for me?"

Jay's blue eyes melted her resistance. Her old crush held its flame, fluttering in her chest. Looking at him hit her hard and fast. Damn. "Okay. But just for the week. I'll tell my mother after it was a lie. Come Monday I'll be at my new job for most hours anyhow."

His dimples grew wider. "And you'll tell everyone we're dating?"

The waiter came with their food. She stroked her throat, pretending to be hungry, but she slowly stared up into his intense eyes. The man had a plan, and, whatever it was, she was now helping him. Wishing for a kiss made her weak, and she swore she wouldn't be. Looking down at her sandwich, she told him, "Yes. Now hurry up and eat. I want to get out of here."

Penny peeked up at him a few times. Jay needing her broke down a few defenses. If he had asked her for a real date and a real relationship, a jolt inside her told her she'd have agreed. Faking this could be dangerous.

# Chapter 12

After stopping for groceries and wine, they made their way home. Penelope showered and changed for her run to the mall before coming home to go to bed, but the question of what Jay's business was played in her head. There was something she didn't know. Her feet clamored on the cool tiles under her bare feet while she made her way out of her room.

She listened to his suite for a minute before gathering the courage to knock. When she did, the door opened.

Putting her head in, she noticed that Jay wasn't in his office. Taking a step into the room, she heard the shower going in the other room. She wrinkled her nose, deciding he must be getting ready for bed. She put one foot in front of the other, and her pulse increased when she walked toward his desk. No papers laid out anywhere. Going behind the desk, she inspected the cabinet. Poking around, she didn't see anything interesting. Not one speck of paper existed.

"Find something, Penny?"

Twirling around, she saw the wet-haired Jay in his boxers without a t-shirt on. Her pulse raced while her eyes memorized every part of his exposed skin.

He came closer and her lips fell open.

"I asked you a question. What are you looking for?"

Rubbing her ear, she fidgeted. Her body tingled. She fought her stupid crush, pulling her lip into her mouth before she could tell him about her stupid fantasy world. Opening then closing her mouth, she decided what she needed to say. "I know this is about business, but if someone asks me anything about you, all I have are memories from years ago. I don't know what's going on with you anymore."

"What do you remember?"

Swallowing hard, she met his eyes. She struggled to find the right words at the moment. She became quieter, but forced out the words. "I expected you to be a ruthless prep-boy jerk who had life handed to him without effort. In high school, for the first month, I avoided you and your friends, until I became friends with Sandy. After our first conversation, your warmth became obvious. After our third, you became my hero, saving me from social disaster. You're still the best guy I've ever met, though you are up to something big."

His hands settled on her hips, and she stared up, surprised.

"Penny, I..." He trailed off, instead pulling her in for a fast kiss.

Her entire body came alive. Wow.

Stepping away from her, he caught his breath. "Good night."

"No." The word flew out of her mouth. She had to know if that second had been real. She walked back into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

Lightning went through her body when his lips touched hers. She lost focus when she shouldn't. Pulling out of his embrace, she ignored the fluttering of her heart and told him, "It was real. Okay. Good night, Jay. I have to go shopping."

Racing out of his office, she ran back to her room, grabbing her bag. He followed her into the living room, in his boxers still, and she ran to the elevator. Nervously fixing her hair, she held her breath until the doors closed. When he couldn't see her, she put her hand on her lips. All her life she'd dreamed of that moment, but nothing had prepared her for the sparks coursing through her now.

Living here was temporary and to him, all that mattered were his business plan. She had her own life to start too, but Jay would be the icing on the cake.

Blinking, she washed that thought away. No. She couldn't be like her mother. She'd never use him. He deserved love, and so did she. Jay and her together sounded ridiculous. She'd never dare kiss him again, or else she'd lose her good intentions.

# Chapter 13

She needed to breathe. Her body was electrified and all she wanted to do was jump into bed with that man, forgetting everything else. Every nerve ending in her lips still hungered for his kiss. Living with Jay for the next month, faking a relationship on Friday, and starting a new job all added up to too much, too fast. She needed a cold shower. But first she had to go clothes shopping, then she'd meet Eva later in the week, pretending to admit she dated Jay.

What would she say to her now?

Penny's mind raced while she rushed down the highway. At least in Miami, stores stayed open late. And she did need to round out a work wardrobe. Ratty jeans did not look professional.

On the half-hour drive to the Dolphin mall, she let her mind relax. Her skin jumped when she thought about Jay and what she'd like to do when she went home. Letting out a small yell, she decided to tune him out, so she sang along with any song she could find on the radio. Outlet shopping would be less expensive, though she'd make up for it with bulk orders.

His kiss and how she ran her hands briefly in his sandy blond hair melted her. She needed to stop. On the ride, she called Sandra, who answered on the second ring. "Can you meet Eva and me for coffee tonight?"

Envisioning a firing squad, she answered nonchalantly, "I can't. I need to go shopping for work tomorrow, and it's already late."

"Make time. We won't keep you long."

She bit her lip. "I guess I can go to our usual place on the ride home."

"Text me when you're done. She's upset it was you all along, Pen. We need to smooth things over."

What? Her friends all overanalyzed everything, confusing her. She hadn't talked to Jay until she moved back. Sandy, of all people, had to know that. "Me all along? What does that mean?"

Sandy whispered into her phone, "Jay never touched Eva. They didn't date all that long and she thought he wanted someone else. And then bam, turns out the girl was you."

She almost swerved her Jeep into another car.

"No." A secret thrill raced up her body. The man never touched Eva. Tamara had been pretty, but she didn't have Eva's star power. No mortals did, including Penny. Jay had "perfect guy" written on his forehead. Eva had "gorgeous" on hers. But the rawness in his blue eyes earlier told her they had both been rocked by that kiss. The hum in her body grew while she told her friend, "We need to smooth everything out, then."

"Penny, did you know?"

Her friend read her mind. Her hands shook in excitement, though she focused on the road. She giggled. "Know what?"

"That's a no, then. Let me get my business closed so I can meet you for coffee. I have your back. You're both my friends. Finish shopping. Be there soon."

Pulling into the mall, she found a spot in the back. Good. In Miami people stayed out late every night. Technically, she could walk around all night, never going home, but she'd need sleep at some point. Running to the outlets with good quality clothing, she tried on countless dresses, skirts, blazers and blouses settling on four outfits at one store, two at another, three someplace else, and, surprisingly, one at a store she'd never heard of.

Her only issue was spending too much on these clothes. But if she shopped at Gainesville where it was cheaper, she'd have had additional shipping costs. Ok, time to move on and forgive herself. She started work tomorrow.

Glancing at her phone, she saw the time. It was getting late, and she had to be up early.

She'd face Eva soon.

She walked out of the mall as more people headed inside.

Gritting her teeth, she faced traffic. She'd get moving, though part of her wished to stay. Crowds sounded more tolerable than Eva, though they'd always been friendly back in their high school days.

The lights and cars slowed her down on the roads, but soon enough she found herself on US 1, parking at the shop in the Gables.

Fumbling for her purse, she almost screamed when someone opened her car door. Stifling her terror, she breathed, then yelled out, "Fernando, never touch my car door!"

"I came to greet you, baby girl, and walk you back in."

Why would he still be here? She had enough changes in her life, but staring at a mistake hadn't been on the agenda. She groaned before reminding him, "I'm not your baby. Not anymore. I never really was."

Fernando had cute brown eyes, but her fingers ached to touch Jay again. Her lips tingled when she thought about a few hours ago. And the hardness on his body showed the dedication he had to everything he did. In comparison, the boy staring at her right now was just that, a stupid boy. And she now preferred a man. Jay, to be exact.

Stepping out of her Jeep, she locked the door, and kept two feet from Fernando, who followed her inside. Eva first. Fernando second.

Eva sat with Sandra. Fernando waved at them. Clearly, they'd became friendly yesterday. Penny imagined a huge bull's-eye on her forehead when she ordered her chamomile tea. Waiting for her drink at the counter made her jumpy.

Hopefully the drink would calm her, like it was supposed to. "Here you go, ma'am."

She jerked a quick nod before she closed her eyes to take a relaxing breath. Heading to the table made her stomach flutter, and in taking the seat, her legs quivered. "Hi."

Sandra reached across the table and squeezed Penny's hand in support.

Eva's eyes narrowed. "Nervous to talk to me? We were always friends, Penny.

"Sandra tells me you didn't know Jay and I were dating at all until you came home yesterday."

Lying didn't solve anything. Sandra didn't need to smooth this over. Not when she hadn't done anything wrong. Ripping open the honey in the small plastic package, Penny's hand only slightly shook as she stared up at her, then nodded. "I knew."

"And you dated him online anyway?"

"No. We weren't dating. I was dating Fernando, staying away from Miami."

"Then one day back you land Jay. The same day we were breaking up."

Penny's lips pressed into a grimace. She liked Eva as a person, but she didn't get to interfere in her life either. "I came in for coffee. He was here. I went to my mother's that night he broke up with you."

Eva mimicked her head shake. "Don't be nervous. I'm not the bad girl in this story, but I wish you had told me you loved Jay a long time ago. I would have done things differently too."

"Loved?" She sipped her tea before shaking her head. This was getting out of control fast. Her body hoped to throw him down on her bed and have her wicked way with him, but reallove took time. She crossed her legs, then straightened them out while sitting. A headache formed. "I don't know what to say. My life is spinning fast right now, but I'd never purposefully hurt you, Eva. Part of me is terrified of getting in your way. You always get what you want out of life."

Eva's smile grew larger. "True. Which is why I need your help now."

Penny's heart raced at being confronted. Sipping her tea in a gulp didn't stop the sinking feeling in her chest. She gazed away, then asked, "What do you need from me?"

Eva raised a finger while she reached into her bag, taking out a folder. She had a glimmer in her eye as she pushed it toward Penny. "It's a contract for Jay to sign, sponsoring our production of _Cinderella_."

Business and manipulating killed her libido, and it would crush his too. Opening the contract, the number "two million" glared in her eyes, overpowering everything else she saw. "Are you serious?"

Eva shrugged. "He's one of many sponsors, but his company benefits from me being happy for the two of you and my production company gets the money. It's a win-win."

Did all rich people care about giving and getting something when discussing how to help each other? Jay would probably talk about a deal while he slept. "You talk like him. I can't promise anything but to show him this."

"You can persuade him, Penny," Eva prodded. "You have everything going for you."

"She promised to talk to him. Trust her," Sandra said.

Nodding, Penny added in a serious tone, "It's a lot of money. And I don't have anything to do with his business deals. Giving this to him already makes me feel uncomfortable, but I will because I'd like us to be friends still."

She avoided direct eye contact with Eva until Eva spoke, "Jay doesn't have your middle-class view of numbers. The only penny he counts as important is you. Don't let me down."

No. She kept her gaze down. Involving herself in these affairs should not be how she talked to him. As friends, she could say anything to the man. As a potential date that wasn't a lie like Friday, she didn't know how. She'd figure out what to do somehow. "I'm going to go home now. Work starts tomorrow. Fernando, go home to Tallahassee and don't follow me to my car."

Entering the apartment, she saw Jay pacing and talking to someone on the phone. His broad, naked back left her fantasizing about how strong he'd be holding her. She pretended to be busy, and shuttled all t her shopping bags into her room. She smiled at him, and he nodded before going back into his office.

Breathing normally took a few seconds, but she cooled off and began putting everything away. After sorting out her new clothes, she stared down at the bed. Jay taking off those sexy boxers would steam up her room and cause her to explode at the same time.

Laughing, she decided to get something to eat before bed. It wasn't like she could sleep anyhow. Tomorrow was the big day.

After putting the papers on the counter, she decided to make them a simple dinner of pasta, eggplant, and breaded chicken. Jay stayed in his office while she prepped for the food. When she was done, she put the food in the oven. then she went to put the last of her new clothes in the closet and to wash the hot sun off her body.

Smelling clean and fresh, she went back to check on her food and caught Jay reading the folder she'd left on the counter.

Biting her lip, she told him, "I promised to deliver that to you from Eva."

"Clearly. It had my name on it."

This wasn't how she'd planned tonight. She'd rather have another go at that kiss, but he seemed so serious at the moment. She went into the kitchen to open the oven and not look at him. "I told her no, but she insisted I give it to you. I said I would, but I swore not to be involved with your answer."

"Will she leave you alone if I agree to this?" he asked.

Turning around, she met clear, judging eyes that made her body want to jump out of her skin. Rubbing her hand on her nightshirt, she gazed down again. "She mentioned we'd be friends no matter what you said."

"I'll have my lawyers look at this."

He hopped out of his chair, walking back to his office, not looking at her. She picked at a loose thread on her shirt, hoping he wouldn't notice the blush she felt extending down her entire body. When the door clicked closed, she opened the oven to check on the food.

At least she did one thing right today. Finding the oven mitts, she took out the food, placing it on top of the counter next to the oven. She smiled, then washed her hands. She hadn't cooked in a while. Calmness enveloped her and soon everything in the kitchen smelled delicious. Finished with all the prep, she heard the crackle of the olive oil one more time, then she added onions, garlic, green peppers to the stir-fry pan to let everything get brown and cook together.

A hand went on her back, causing her knees to almost buckle.

"Smells delicious, Penny. Is there enough for me?"

"Yes." Arching her head back, she caught hold of herself before she jumped into another fire. Math was addition, one step at a time. She should live her life one thing at a time. It would make everything better. "I hoped you'd join me. I need to calm down to be fresh for work tomorrow. It's why I moved back here."

Not because she missed him, though she always had. She should stick with friends until she understood what was going on with him and started her new job.

He found the plates in the cabinet and told her, "I'll clean up after. Go inside, download a book, and relax. Tomorrow will be hard."

"You're not mad at me for giving you those papers, though?"

He stared up, surprised. "No. I'll settle with Eva and keep you out of it."

Why would he do that? Eva and Jay spoke a language she didn't understand at all. "Settle? You'll give her the money?"

He shrugged. "I get it back on my taxes. So it's a wash and it makes our lives easier. Don't stress over it."

Two million dollars? "Is that because of me or your own conscience, Jay?"

"I don't have one of those anymore."

Yes, he did. They were always friends. He needed her. "Don't lie to yourself or to me. You know right from wrong, and you always have. Jay, you're a good man."

"It's good you think so. Let's eat."

She didn't mention the kiss. It would be better to bury that. After putting her dish in the sink, she took his advice and downloaded a book to read and relax with before bedtime.

While she snuggled under her soft blankets, Penny listened to him humming as he cleaned up the kitchen. If they weren't friends, stripping him down and kissing him senseless would be so much easier.

# Chapter 14

Penelope couldn't sleep. Jay's kiss and what she hoped to do with his body tortured her, when she should have been focused on being rested for the first day of her new job. Spending the last few months without a full-time job while deferring her student loan bills weighed heavily on her shoulders. Her mother hadn't offered a dime to pay for anything. Now, soon, she could start fresh. The job gave her hope. Good. When her alarm clock flashed five o'clock in the morning, the second before it beeped uncontrollably, she rolled out of her comfortable bed. She'd sleep tonight, after a full day of work.

Yes, work kept her honest. Dragging her butt into the shower, she hit a different setting button to see her other options, and rainwater trickled on her head. Giggling, she let the soft sounds and sometimes-sideways water calm her twitching nerves.

Twenty minutes later, she stepped out of her home spa, found a towel, and picked out her favorite new brown and pink skirt with matching blazer and a white blouse. After wiggling her feet into her fancy high-heeled brown sandals, she stared at herself in the mirror. She appeared happy. Good. With a smile, she finished the look, brushing on a little makeup and the barest touch of rosy gloss. After assembling the rest of her makeup into her new oversized black bag, she needed only one more thing. Coffee in a trusty cup to wake her body up before heading into work.

The place was dead quiet when she left.

Twenty minutes later, she had halfway finished her latte when Jay texted her. _Missed you this morning. Have a good first day at work._

Smiling, she calmed down. Jay being her true friend gave her hope for everything else. Not sleeping with him was the right thing to do. If that had happened, it might have changed their dynamic, and she needed a true friend in her life now, more than ever.

Finding a spot in the parking lot hadn't been hard. Today she started her new life. She carried her mostly finished coffee, her heels ticking on the marble floor of the spacious lobby. When she signed the roster at security, the man's eyes didn't have any light in them when he asked, "Penelope Knightheart?"

"Yes." She let the security guard wave a wand looking for metal over her body. Did she look dangerous? Funny.

He waved her through. "Come this way. The owner wanted to see you the second you arrived."

"Why?" She couldn't have done anything wrong. It was the first day, and she hadn't had the chance to wow anyone yet. She glanced at the clock—still two minutes before she had been scheduled to arrive. "Am I on a list?"

"The boss doesn't tell me his thoughts. I do what I'm told. Just follow me."

She assumed she must have more paperwork to fill out. Yes, that made sense, but something didn't add up. Penny bit her lip while she rode the elevator to the top floor of the building. The security guard pointed to the door etched with the boss's name on top and President underneath. Hmm. Paperwork was usually done in human resources, not the president's office. Gulping, she gazed at the security guard, who told her, "I have to get back to my post."

Right. Whatever happened, she'd have to face the situation head on. She hadn't done anything at all, much less anything wrong. Squaring her shoulders, she proceeded inside. A secretary nodded at her. "Ms. Knightheart?"

"Yes."

"Go right on inside. Mr. Wells will see you now."

Why would the president of the company want her? Her hand only slightly shook when she clutched the doorknob, hoping, somehow, something would stop her. Lightning didn't strike to knock out the power, and she pushed ahead while smoothing over the soft fabric of her pants. Forcing a happy-to-be-here face on, she proceeded to his desk. The man stared up. Perhaps she had overreacted. Opening her mouth took effort while she struggled for composure. "Good morning, Mr. Wells, it's good to meet you."

Without raising his head, his eyes rolled up to meet hers. "Sorry you had to move, Ms. Knightheart, but we've had to eliminate your position. I have my secretary drawing up a package for you now, which includes a generous amount to cover your move and a month's severance pay."

No job. What? Did he just say that? Her ears turned red. "Why? I didn't do anything wrong."

"It's not about you." His eyes returned to his desk, refusing to look at her. "Get out now. I have other things to do. Sign the papers and get the money. Goodbye."

How had this happened? She needed the job. She opened, then closed her mouth. Could she say anything to change this? She stood there motionless while the secretary came inside the office. The secretary stood in front of her. "Let's go now."

Her eyes would water any minute now. "Please."

Uncaring, the woman answered, "Follow me."

Penny swallowed, needing to stop the tears, and followed the secretary out the door to stand at her desk. She couldn't cry. She needed to show them how wrong this was.

The secretary pushed paper at her hands. "Please sign this saying that you were adequately compensated for your time and the inconvenience of moving."

She took the pen in her hand without thinking before she argued, "I didn't do anything."

"Doesn't matter. Please sign."

The paper glared at her, telling her that she had screwed up entirely. She had spent all her money in the past two days. Apartment, car, clothes. She took a deep breath, refusing to hyperventilate. If she didn't sign, she wouldn't get the three thousand dollars. Staring at the paper for a minute, she couldn't think of any argument. Looking up at the sky, she then took the pen and followed the directions for signature and initials.

The secretary checked the boxes, ensuring everything was in order, before she handed her an envelope. Peeking inside, Penny noticed her paycheck. It covered what she had spent, but she wouldn't have any extra money.

* * *

She had paid a security deposit on a place she'd never be able to afford now without this nice salary she was expecting. What was she supposed to do? Coldness took over her body. Soon enough, she'd have nothing—again. Gainesville left a sour taste in her mouth. Hard work was supposed to pay off with a pleasant place to live and a car.

Her cheeks were wet from tears as a security officer walked in to escort her off the premises.

Outside, near her car, she covered her mouth until no more tears came out of her eyes. She'd been fired? What? No one had an answer. She stared at the car. How could she afford it? Or her student loans? Or her half of the rent? Or the whole rent on a new place?

Her heart raced while panic struck her and paralyzed her with fear.

Her mother's answer would be to smile and flash her chest to get money out of an unsuspecting man. Penny's skin turned ice cold. She'd never be like her mother.

Looking at her smart phone, she had an idea. The weight on her shoulders lessened considerably. She needed a job. She'd have to find another job. Fast.

She gulped for air. The bars of the parking lot didn't cover the view of the street. A red "help wanted" sign across the street caught her eye. A pizza shop. Turning quickly, she went inside. A temporary job would stave off the panic until she found a job to match her degree.

With the money in her bag and a low-paying job, she'd buy herself time to figure out her next move.

Good. She worked better with a plan.

# Chapter 15

Jay rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Last night's sex dreams starred Penelope, though he wouldn't tell her. Instead, he shook off the amorous thoughts. Today he finalized a short deal to finance their favorite coffee and keep that in business. Then he had a meeting with Danvers. And tonight, he'd do something nice for Penny.

Every time he thought her name, a warmness filled his chest.

Silence greeted his ears. She must have gone to work already. He sat up and stretched. With a yawn, he headed to the shower, but his phone rang. He glanced at the number, grimaced, then continued. His mother. With a shake of his head, he closed the door. He'd need coffee before he spoke to her.

An hour later, he scrubbed his plate from breakfast and flipped open his tablet.

His mother's email stood out. Determination ran in the family. He read her warning that he wasn't "prepared for business," then hit delete.

Next, he scanned the few papers his secretary had sent him. First was the advertisement for a planning engineer. His mind wandered to Penny, but she already had a job.

He nodded to himself, then responded, _Perfect. Send this out. I'll get a team together to interview the candidates that meet the qualifications._

He'd need someone to ensure his building structures were secure before he offered anyone financial backing.

Next he read the contract for the coffee shop. A vision of Penny with a smile as she sipped a latte and laughed next to him played out in his mind. Unlike everyone else in his life at the moment, even thinking about her seemed to make him more peaceful.

He printed the PDF to sign. Last he checked his email from Danvers.

_Looking forward to meeting you in person, Mr. Marshall. Your plans are impressive. I had received an earlier report that you have a reputation for being untrustworthy and unstable. From my impression, this report must be wrong. Most eager to meet you and your girlfriend this weekend._

Who would report him unstable? His mind steamed while the answer popped up. His mother. He shook his head, then smiled to himself before he typed back. Penny was the perfect choice for his date. _I don't have time to be anything but stable. Can't wait to meet in person this weekend._

Finished, he stood up and went to his printer. The contract had all the right sections. He picked up the papers, signed, then put everything on his color scanner. With a click of a button, his secretary would receive this, and he'd pack the originals for her. The deal was complete.

He now owned the place where he'd first laid eyes on Penny. A grin grew on his face. She deserved a good first day.

Groceries. She'd like eggplant and chicken with pasta. He rubbed his chin and read the note she'd left. Tonight was his turn to cook for her. A smile grew on her face. He'd like to please her. So he found his flip-flops and headed downstairs.

With a wave to the doorman, he stepped into the hot Miami heat. The store at the corner was a short walk away. Halfway there his phone rang. After he glanced at the name, a sigh escaped his lips. He fixed his headphones then answered, "Mom."

"Son. You cannot continue to stand in the way of your father."

"Dad isn't the issue, Mom. I need you to stand aside."

"Fine. We'll talk about that later. Why are you living with Penelope Knightheart? You know her family."

He spotted Penny's mother inside the store as she spoke to the cashier. He stayed near the window outside. "Mom, leave it. I trust her."

"Son, everything I do is for you to be happy."

"Everything you do is to ensure your life is how you want it. Every time we talk, I grow more determined to go against you. I'm not a child, though, so it's time to hang up the phone."

Without another word, he followed his words with actions.

The thought struck him that Penny Knightheart equaled fun and innocence in his life again. He would not involve her with his family. She had brought him back to life where he enjoyed the warmness of the beach again.

# Chapter 16

Jay would be upstairs. Pulling at a random strand of her hair in the elevator, she couldn't stop the stress. Student loans. Moving. Eating. At least she had the pizza gig for extra cash. She'd have to find a new full-time job. When the doors opened, she decided to not tell him. Not until she had another job.

She smelled the air and her mouth watered. Chicken marsala, if her nose proved right. Jay had done too much for her already. She'd gotten this job to be independent, and she'd not ask anyone for anything. She had to prove this.

"Hey, I made us dinner."

She stepped into the living room, tasting the pasta in her memory. Glancing to her left, she saw the chicken and pasta dish sitting gracefully on the dinner table, complete with napkin settings and dishes. "You rock."

"Tell me about your day."

"Terrible, but dinner is making it better, Dimples. You're clean and adorable. Let me go change out of my clothes I sweated half the day in."

His eyes beamed with pride, causing her to blush. "Food will be done in about a half an hour. I'll pick a movie for us."

Friends. This was normal for friends. At least, she drilled that in her head while she hoped the blush didn't go all the way to her toes. "We're relaxing at home?"

"Hurry. I want to hear about everything."

She'd get a new job first, then tell him. She didn't need Jay to fix this. She'd studied for far too long to take a handout. Though she couldn't ask for a hug at the moment either. She might want another kiss, and she had no time now for complication. She lived with the guy. In her room, she dropped her expensive new clothes on the floor and stepped into the shower. The grease of the pizza pans smeared on her elbows beckoned her to her heavenly shower.

"Botanical retreat" sounded refreshing, so she hit that setting for her shower. A light mist sprayed her head, relaxing her. Living here gave her this at least. Penny let out a moan. She'd be good for tonight. Friends. No benefits. Not until she could stand on solid footing, confident in her smarts and work ethic to keep pushing her ahead.

After pulling on a pair of sweatpants and nightshirt, she joined Jay in the dining area. He looked adorable in his jeans and solid-color navy blue t-shirt. He had already served the food and opened a bottle of wine. "You are one of the best friends a girl could ever ask for."

Putting his hand on his heart, he fell backward with a smile. "Ouch. The friend zone, cutie."

Clearing the air was good. Last night's kiss burned in her mind again, though she denied it for now. "We are friends. It's what I need."

Winking, he asked permission to eat. She picked up her fork to dig in while he told her, "I guess I can use a break from women. I am focusing on work at the moment."

She almost knocked her glass to the ground, though she caught herself. Ignoring her idiocy, she met his eyes. "You should, Dimples. You're doing amazing."

His dimples grew. "Thank you. Now tell me about your day."

Telling the truth without lying took a lot of thinking. She slowly let out, "I was on my feet a lot, running around. It's stressful, but I'll figure it out. I don't want to talk about it."

Shrugging, he took a sip of wine before asking her, "What should we talk about, then?"

Sex. How it could be fun, and how she spent years of her life planning it between them. Not that he knew that. Taking a sip of her own wine, she winked. "What movie did you pick for us? And when did you learn to cook anything? I'm impressed."

Leaning closer, he whispered, "I spent a lot of time with the chef in my mother's house growing up. She talked a lot, and I found her interesting."

Pushing his shoulder back across the table made her laugh. "I didn't know that about you."

As he put his glass to his mouth, she wished she had kissed him. "There is a lot you don't know about me."

Shaking her head, she put her chin up to dare him. "What else? Two more secrets."

He stopped moving for a split second before a smile broke out on his face. "Two more?"

Sipping her wine, she calmly nodded. "Yeah."

He circled the glass with his finger. What would he do to her body with that motion? "Your mom was fired from my dad's company during our freshman year because my mom caught them kissing in his office. I befriended you despite being told to stay away from you."

Her jaw dropped. Was he serious? "It's why Mom pushes so hard for you and me, then. She hoped we'd get married since the day I mentioned your name. Wow."

"Unlike most women, you'll make any man the luckiest guy when you become a wife and mother."

Huh?

His cheeks turned red. Was he blushing? "In the distant future... I'm going to stop talking."

"No, don't." She smiled. "You surprised me, and it's been a long day. Tell me the next secret about you."

He leaned closer, like he was about to share the biggest one of all. She followed, letting him come closer when he whispered, "Third secret is that I'm a science-fiction guy. Give me aliens and a space war, and I'll be at the movie."

Move her lips a fraction more and she could kiss him again. The electrical bursts inside her screamed to do it, but she stepped back. Breathing normally, she laughed. "Okay, Dimples, that means we're watching a sci-fi movie, then. I like the ones with a princess as the star."

His face contorted. "Too girly. Guess again."

Smiling around him became easy. She needed this. She'd been drained all day.

Putting the last dish in the tray, she hummed while listening to him in the shower. Making her way to the living room, she plopped on the couch, picked up the remote, and waited a split second for the machine to follow commands. Jay's hand grazed her shoulder, making her look back. No shirt, but a pair of cotton pants. If she didn't live here, she'd run her hands down his muscles, yanking those right off. Pulling her next to him, he gave her a fast hug. "Let's get started."

Sighing, she let him adjust in his seat while not peeking at his shoulder. Perfection personified, sitting next to her while the movie roared onto the screen. When the alien appeared, killing the person in the suit, she twisted into that waiting shoulder. Not moving, she rested there, inhaling his fresh, soapy smell.

Every time someone screamed on the screen, she pushed closer until his hand went around her back. Her mind wasn't on the movie, but on how tasty dessert would be if he did more than hug her.

The beep rung in the air, killing her fantasy world. "Who's calling?" she asked while he picked up his phone to see.

His eyes grew larger while he read his screen. "My mother's coming up."

Pulling her t-shirt up a little, she asked, "What?"

His hands went to her waist, pulling her closer while he said, "I don't have time to explain. Just do this for me."

She opened her mouth to ask what, but he claimed her lips, pulling her into his body. Her body softened while his kiss sent her straight out of her known universe. Her entire body rocked closer to his lap while his hands traced down her back.

"What the hell is this, Jay?" his mother's imperious voice called out, landing her back in her body, sitting on his lap. "You're living with the riffraff?"

She wiggled, but he sent her a pleading look. She stopped, then he kissed her cheek. "Mom, Penelope is my girlfriend. This is my condo. You don't own any stake in my company or my house, and I expect you to be nice to Penny."

Sighing, she rubbed her face to his, recognizing his chin needed a shave. The roughness made her own skin more sensitive and aware, stealing her voice.

"Jay, she's not good enough for you. You must see that." His mother's nostrils flared.

"Get out. I didn't invite you, and you're being rude." He kissed Penny's forehead, again, and her eyes fluttered.

His mother gave her the coldest stare, numbing her body. She should say something. Eva would have a cutting remark ready to launch. Kate dismissed her, focusing on Jay. "Wait. I came to deliver this from your father."

"Put it on the counter, then go," he told his mother, then he kissed the side of Penny's mouth. In the background, she heard his mother's dragon breathing, but with Jay's arms around her waist and his warm lips on hers, she lost all other thought. She rocked and brushed against his growing erection. At least she wasn't the only one aroused.

She had opened her mouth to say something to his mother when Jay swooped down, claiming her lips in another kiss. She wrapped her arms around his waist, forgetting everything else, while he deepened their kiss, pushing her down on the couch.

Slowly she came to her senses. "Your mom."

Jay stepped back and turned around. "She must have left."

Her entire body had no control, because he came back to kiss her. She traced his face and stared into his eyes. Breathing heavily, he whispered, "We should go to bed now."

Moaning, she took one more hard stare his body. His need pushed into her, and if they took their clothes off, had he propositioned her?

"Our own rooms." He still hadn't caught his breath, and his lips were so close to hers. "I'm sorry, I had no warning earlier."

Her own body exerted too much heat. All she could do was nod.

Pulling away took all his energy, just as sitting up and not touching him took all of hers. Sighing, she stepped away without analyzing anything. All she could do was sway to her room and close the door behind her.

Running her hand in her hair before she traced her finger down her mouth, reliving tonight, she hoped one of the channels in her bathroom spa could cool off her spiking temperature. She'd have stripped his clothes off if he hadn't sent her away. Her body quivered at her door, aching to run to him.

She didn't. She let her moans of almost-pleasure float out of her mouth before she made her way to bed.

Tonight, in dream world, he'd finish what he started.

# Chapter 17

When she woke up the next morning, her mouth watered for her early morning coffee fix. On her budget, she should cut the expense of the brew, but not today. Dragging herself out of bed, she stared at his fancy coffee maker, but couldn't shake her cravings. So she found her flip-flop's then snuck out of the condo with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt in her backpack to change in her car. Not telling Jay about her plight had to be for the best. Ugh. She'd think about him later.

Stopping at the coffee shop, she decided to change there. Stuffing her nice clothes in her bag and drinking her morning cup woke her up and energized her.

As of today she'd found a new job, or at least started the journey. Whatever happened didn't matter, including Jay not wanting her sexually last night.

Looking in the mirror, she told herself firmly to not think about him. Then she started the SUV. As she drove to work, she focused on the earthy aroma in the drink. The drive was hypnotic and fast, but after she entered the parking lot, she felt calmer. She was almost herself. As she found a spot and turned off the engine, she checked that her tablet was still in her bag.

Everything was in order, so she skipped into her job with more blood rushing in her veins. With a nod to her coworkers, she clocked in and put her apron on. Serving pizza was temporary, and at least the place catered to the nine-to-five crowd. Going back to part-time work had to be temporary, and she couldn't let herself be comfortable.

Nothing happened for most of the day, but on her break, she went outside, used the free Wi-Fi, and emailed dozens of résumés. Nothing important was in her inbox. With a sigh, she went back inside. Fingers crossed she'd get a break.

Work made her not stress or wonder when someone would call. Or think about how her lips still had a small taste of Jay's kiss whenever she sucked in her bottom lip. At five o'clock her shift ended.

As she walked to her car to go home, she took out her tablet one more time to check the job postings. A flashy title caught her eye. _Seeking Mechanical Engineer to be responsible for overseeing capital projects._ She could do that. Clicking, she realized the address provided was two doors down from the pizza place. Perfect job. Perfect location. She leaned against her car, sucked in her cheeks, fixed up her cover letter, and sent it.

Then she hopped in her car and drove home, but on the ride she gazed down at her jeans. Jay could not know she'd lost her job. She had to pretend. What would happen tonight? Did they pretend nothing happened? No. She'd figure out something while staring at him. She'd never been shy in her life. Near the park, she parked her Jeep, then pulled out her bag, wiggled on the skirt, and changed out of her jeans. The button-down shirt appeared wrinkled, but she leaned down to pull her t-shirt off to put it back on. Tomorrow, she would change back into her work outfits at work, then slip out the door before heading home. Before getting out, she closed her eyes for strength.

Why had he kissed her? She needed to know the score between Jay and his mother. Last night, the kiss, the deception, the fake dating—he had to have a reason, and there was more to it than business. Why her? Was it her mother?

Taking the elevator up, she paced. When the doors opened, he wasn't in the common areas. Going to her room and putting her stuff away, she found perfume. She'd need it. Lightly spraying herself reinvigorated her questions. She stayed in her business clothes for strength, then marched to his side of the condo. She knocked on the door, but the vibration sounded weaker than she would like.

"Come in, Pen."

"Right." Peeking her head in the door, she saw him sitting on his black leather chair at his fancy desk, looking out the window.

He put his finger up, pointing to his ear, before he said, "Those figures sound good. Finish getting the proposal in order and email it to me before you go home." He smiled at her while listening to someone. "Great. Thanks. Talk later."

She almost took the seat across from him but he bounded up from his chair. "Penny, what can I do for you? How was work?"

Meeting the directness of his gaze, she let out a breath before telling him in a straight voice, "I need to talk about what happened last night. I let you talk me into pretending for business, but I need more details."

His face turned a little red. "You're right, but my reaction to kissing you hasn't been a lie."

She took in the sight of him in his cargo shorts and blue t-shirt that matched his eyes. "The erection or the walking away?"

Leaning closer, he smiled, showing his dimples. "Direct. I do like the new you."

Standing up on her tiptoes would give her access to take his lips in hers again to see if the surge she experienced was always one-sided. No. "Don't distract me."

Stepping back, he ran his hand through his hair. "I don't want to use you and you don't know enough to make a fair choice."

Putting her hand on her hip, she raised her eyebrow. "Tell me."

Tapping his leg, he admitted, "It's my mother."

Penny squinted. She hadn't expected that one. "Okay. You are not a momma's boy intending to please her. What can your mother do to you now? We're adults."

Looking out the window and not at her, he lowered his voice. "No, I'm not. Mom is controlling. She runs her fingers through Dad's businesses, ensuring she stays in on every deal. My father lost the fight with her and lets her run things from the sidelines. I will not."

Following his pose, she mimicked him. "Good for you."

His arm brushed against hers while he waited to meet her gaze. When she stopped moving, he told her, "My business already makes a decent profit, but she's been after me, sending women into my life that will do what they are told. Eva took the bribe. When she gets over her dislike of you, she'll offer it to you, too."

Her mouth fell open. Eva took money to date Jay? Why would his mother do that? "She seeks controlling interest in your company?"

He threw his hands up. "Yes, just to ensure her family stays together. She's pushed women into my life in the past two years for that purpose, and one investor has seen me with all these women once. And I can't lose money over this. I need to nip the idea of me playing anyone in the bud, and Penny, you're the type of woman a man would wait for."

Her head still tried to grasp it, and no words came out at first. Shaking her hands a little helped her shake loose her mouth. "What will your mother offer me? Money to leave you?"

Sighing, he put his hand on her arm. "That's possible, but it will be more a teamwork move to help stabilize me in front of some men with a lot of money at stake. She'll slowly try to get you to report to her what I'm up to, anything you hear me doing. I need to know I can trust you not to do that."

Leaning in, she hugged him. "I won't betray you, Dimples. You've been too good to me."

His hand moved slowly before he hugged her back. "Thank you."

His soap had a touch of the forest, and she took one more whiff of him, sighed, then pushed back a little. "Just so we're clear, though, I'm perfect because why? I don't understand."

He clenched his hands together at his sides and went still. "Because you're the one woman in my life that I've always respected."

"Ohh." She had no other words. Her mouth wouldn't form more syllables.

His dimples caught her eyes again. "Is that a problem?"

_Tell him_ , the voice inside her yelled, but she couldn't. Not yet. She sucked in her cheeks and decided. She'd stay quiet until she had a job. "I'm nothing like her or my own mother. I will not use you for your money. If I can't pay my rent, kick me out. I'm not asking for any handouts."

His eyebrows fell before his lips hovered close to hers again. "I trust you, Penny. It wouldn't have worked if I didn't."

"Ohh." What could she say? She touched her tongue to her lips. She wanted that kiss. Lowering her eyes, she stared at his mouth. "Thank you for clearing this up with me."

"Penny, I've always—"

His lips grazed hers and fireworks exploded inside her. Everything would be so easy, but she couldn't. Pushing him back, she somehow found the strength to say, "I have to go, Jay. I need air right now, but I'll be back."

Composing himself took effort. She saw his body go rigid. "Okay. You win, for now."

Her body heat told her she had made a huge mistake, but her mother's smiling image in the back of her head stopped her. If she kissed him again, she'd lose her focus. First, she needed a job so she'd never be tempted by his money.

Running out of his office, she rushed back to her room. The energy coursing through her made her want to strip and go back to him naked. Pulling off her skirt, she had the mental image of forgetting everything. Whatever he said comparing her to her mother hadn't been right.

Staying here would lead her back to his room. She eyed the door. She needed to leave. After pulling on a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt, she headed out fast.

In the parking lot, she weighed her options. Yesterday, he'd kissed her out of necessity. The first time in his office? Just now? Why? And if she acted on her attraction, their friendship changed.

A voice told her that going up and stripping for him would make her happy. She'd been his biggest cheerleader. Gulping for air, she focused. She needed to do one thing at a time. New job. Then move out. Then think about Jay and how sex changed everything. Not having sex might have changed it already. No. The mess in her head needed to be solved. Jay was a friend, and one night of kisses in public shouldn't spike her temperature like last night, on their couch.

People watching them would help to keep the soul-crushing kisses tempered. When she stopped dwelling on every detail, then she'd be calm enough to decide when or if they'd end up in bed.

# Chapter 18

Jay flipped on his tablet and read his emails. He stretched his arms, but stayed under the covers. His secretary's email stuck out. He sighed, then his gaze focused on the words. _I've narrowed the candidates for the engineer down to eighteen. I am scheduling the interviews._

He nodded to himself. _Thanks. I'll be in for the final round_.

He rubbed his eyes then stretched his muscles to wake up. Penelope would be perfect for the job. He smiled to himself. He might be biased. If he spent all his days with her, he'd be too happy.

First, though, he needed to keep Mr. Gonzales and that business low key. He wouldn't bring Penny anywhere near the men who'd once kidnapped him. After his mother's last encounter, he'd not put anything past her. He picked up the phone and made a call. Two rings later, the man answered, "Hello."

Jay cracked his knuckles before he folded his hands on the table. "What did your lawyers think of the idea?"

"Everything is professional on your end, Mr. Marshall. Let's set up a meeting to discuss a few key aspects."

Jay smiled to himself. "Perfect. I'll have my secretary set everything up."

"Sounds good. And I'll keep everything confidential on my end."

He released his hands though kept still. "Excellent. I'm looking forward to it."

He hung up the phone. With his hands to his side, Jay swiveled in his chair. Everything would end well. And his mind raced to Penny. She worked for his father's company and she had no idea. His father probably didn't know. And his mother or Penny had never mentioned the names of each other. The company was a small subsidiary anyhow, and Penny was an excellent candidate for any office. He shrugged off the idea of visiting unannounced, though. Instead he picked up his phone and dialed his favorite cousin, Sandy. She answered immediately, "Jay."

His cousin's bubbly voice reminded him of simpler days. Back then, Penny was a friend. His heart ached. "What do you know about Penny's ex?"

"Fernando?" Sandy's voice rose in surprise. "Did he bother her again? I heard she clashed with him and Eva at the grocery store."

His brow furrowed. "When was that?"

"Why do you care? I thought you didn't care about anything or anyone anymore."

His collar grew tighter. "I always cared about you."

"It's hard to ignore me for long. I'll just keep calling you. But now you moved Penny into your house."

His heart warmed and his mouth opened. "She's a good roommate."

"Bull. You named your investment company Penelope Investments and claimed it was a literary reference to the _Odyssey_."

A wide smile grew. "It is."

"Liar."

With a shrug, he admitted the truth. "Okay. I thought about Penny. After mom had me kidnapped, I wanted to start a company without my parents' interference. In high school, Penny had been the only person who successfully avoided her mother's interference. But that was years ago now."

"She inspired you."

"She is a good friend."

"Or you are too blind to see she's your soul mate."

"You read too many romance novels, which is funny, cousin. You don't date anyone."

"Michael and Eva don't know this. But in high school, I was very much in love with Wyatt Colburn. Then he joined the Marines and I never saw him again."

Goosebumps appeared on his arms while he put the pieces together. "You disappeared for half of freshman year in college. Did you follow him?"

"No. I'm not that weak..." She cleared her throat. "I had health issues."

With his arms crossed, he stood up. "I never bought that. You were devastated, and it took the rest of the year for you to start smiling again."

"Says the man who stopped talking to everyone that year. We're both adults now, and you are living with the woman who inspired you."

His body heated on his upper back. "I'm hanging up now."

"Call me later. And Jay, you know I love you and Penny both. I just want everyone to be happy."

The clear blue sky calmed him. He stared out the window. "Out of all of us, you deserve the best."

"See you soon."

"Bye."

Jay shook his head. Penny deserved a man who would love and take care of her. He wasn't sure he was capable of that depth of openness. He blinked, then focused back on his work. Business he could control. Penny, he wasn't so sure.

# Chapter 19

Checking her phone on the way out, she saw she had a voice message. Unknown Miami number. Her heart raced as she hit the button to hear, "Please call us today to schedule your interview."

Yes! She'd make that call on her first break. Her hands shook with excitement. Getting a new job and avoiding Jay tonight would help her nerves. Tomorrow she'd go to Sandra's party, so tonight, she had to get a new dress. Friday she'd figure out what to say to Jay.

On her way to work, her phone rang. Wyatt. Aww. "Hey, hero. What's going on overseas?"

His voice sounded gravelly and tired. "Just came back from a two-week mission and needed to hear a friendly voice."

Giggling, she pulled her Jeep into the drive-through at the coffee shop. "Woot, woot. So I'm the voice. How is your family?"

He moaned. "I spoke to Mom and Dad before you. Dad's heading up a task force in DC. Mom's helping him plan. My Charlotte sounded adorable. Though sometimes I wish my entire family wasn't in the military."

"You'll see your daughter soon enough. Charlotte is with your parents." Paying for her coffee, she took the cup from the window and said, "I'm not so lucky. I wish my mother wasn't a gold digger. I'd rather have people to be proud of."

"I'm proud of you, sis. So how is Tallahassee?"

Her half-brother. Total sweetheart of a man. "I'm back home in Miami now. I had an offer for a full-time job in the Gables and I'm living with Jay in the Grove."

His voice caught in his throat. "Jay? Sandy's cousin?"

Why did he sound that shocked? "Yes. I'm home now. How come you don't call her?"

"It's complicated, Penny. Don't mention Charlotte to them, though you better visit her."

She was missing something big. "Okay. Did you secretly date her?"

"No. Are you dating Jay?"

"No." She blushed to her toes again, but thankfully he couldn't tell over the phone.

"But you still have a crush on him." He must be a mind reader.

"I wish you were here," she told him. She decided to park her car in the lot and stare at the main road. Having Wyatt around would calm her nerves, make her less nervous about everything. "Doesn't matter, Wyatt. It's getting complicated and I need to find a job."

"I thought you had a job."

She took a sip of her coffee. Priorities. She had to set herself straight first. Job. Then Jay. She swallowed then answered, "I lost it. I have a call for an interview to be scheduled, so hopefully this is temporary. Now spill about Sandy."

His voice became short. "I don't talk to Sandy because there is nothing to say that changes anything."

Clutching the wheel, she asked, "So you liked her?"

He laughed, though it didn't sound heartfelt. "Penny, for the secret half-sister I'm not supposed to know about, you're pretty smart."

She laughed more fully, hoping to shake him out of his funk. "Apparently my mom kissed Jay's dad too. I hadn't known that one."

"Ouch. You're not like her, Penny. You're far too honorable."

"I wish. I don't want to fall down that rabbit hole."

"You're being crazy. Believe in yourself. And if you like Jay, don't let Geneva stand in the way." Damn. He made sense. Voices in the background spoke to him. "Look, sis, I have to go. Talk soon."

Wyatt. She'd lucked out getting him for a brother. If he were her, he'd have a schedule set, an order. Taking stock in him, she firmed up her spine. She had to get a job that paid her bills soon, because she'd never end up like her mother. She'd marry one man in time, be happy, and take care of herself. Depending on men and using them for favors soured her, but she'd get it right. She had no choice.

Maybe giving in to Jay would loosen up everything. He'd be her one exception, making him dangerous to live with.

# Chapter 20

At work, her phone beeped. Her boss raised his eyebrows and she kept cutting the pizza. She should have turned it on vibrate. After heading out to the customer, she nodded at her boss when her phone beeped again. Stupid thing was set on reminder beeps. Biting her lip, she whispered, "I'll turn it off."

"See that you do."

She put a pizza on the table, smiling at the customers and ensuring everyone had a drink before she walked away. She had thirty seconds before her boss noticed. Picking it up, she hit the silent button on the side and read the message.

_Penny, I need one small favor_.

Jay.

Wow. Her entire body froze. Playing with her collar, she bent below the counter and typed fast. _Super busy right now. Call you soon?_

He texted back before she straightened her back. Smiling up at her boss, she let her eyes roll back down to read, _Eva's going to your party tonight. Can you bring the contracts back to her? I'm not going_.

Last night she'd spent most of the evening visiting Charlotte and dropping off toys.

She had wanted to buy a dress. At least twenty minutes later, while waiting for a pizza, she typed fast. _You're going. Sandy's your cousin_.

Walking to the back, she tucked her phone in her apron, though she wiggled when it vibrated. Jay again. Picking up another delivery, she ran the food to the next table of happy people, took care of the drinks, refilled the other tables' drinks, then left. Hiding behind the counter, she smiled. She'd like to touch Jay again. It had been too long.

_You don't want to pretend to be my girlfriend for two nights in a row. I'm giving you the night off_.

Adorable. She missed him. If she landed her job tomorrow, she'd fall in his bed. She needed his strength. _I can handle you, Dimples. We're leaving at seven_.

Heading back to the kitchen, she heard the slight vibrating noise. Walking to the sink to wash, she read his message.

_You're confusing, Pen. See you soon._

Going with Jay to two parties in a row sounded torturous to her crush, but she needed to stop overanalyzing. She'd pull herself together, because she would not allow Jay to skip out on his family. Sandra deserved better. And so did she.

Serving pizza was temporary, and she had to have faith in herself. If she did, she could be with Jay.

She stopped moving and let that sink in. She'd been stupid the night before. Utterly, entirely stupid. A light bulb over her head flickered, and she laughed to herself. "We'll need to fix that."

After work she went home, changing into her jeans and a nice light purple top before Jay knocked on her door. She came out carrying her silver spiked heels. "What's up?"

His face lost its color. "You talked to Wyatt?"

Wrinkling her nose, she shrugged. "Yes. I talk to him whenever he calls me. Why?"

His entire body didn't move. "I need you to pretend to be my date, tomorrow more importantly. I can't share you with him."

Walking over, she put her shoes on his desk to confront him. "Are you jealous?"

Without blinking at all when she approached, he asked back, "Should I be?"

Suppressing a giggle took strength when she put her hand on his arm. "No, but we're not dating, so it shouldn't matter."

His hand rested on her hip and she smiled. "If it did matter, why does he call you?"

She and Wyatt had accidentally found out their relationship, but had never made it public knowledge. She put her hands on his chest and smiled. "We were always friends. We've talked weekly for years. How do you even know?"

He didn't move. "He called me."

Her eyes widened in surprised. "Wyatt called you?"

Pulling away from her, he told her, "Yeah. He threatened me if I hurt you."

She held her hand lightly on his chest so he wouldn't move. "Oh. Don't worry about that, Jay. I'll handle Wyatt."

His blue eyes had circles underneath. She hoped he'd smile to take those away before he told her, "Penny, if you are in love with him, then you have to tell me."

Her father had asked her and Wyatt not to discuss their family with their friends. Tracing Jay's arm, she moved closer and forced a smile on his face. Part of her wished to forget the past. "I do love him, but I'm not and never will be in love with him. That's gross. Now drop this conversation, Dimples. We're running late."

He glued his lips together, though a spark entered his eyes. His anger confused her. They were friends. She was allowed to have friends, and for some reason she kept her mouth shut, not telling him about Wyatt. Not when he was upset. Besides, distance kept her safe.

Pulling back from her touch, he packed a folder with papers. "Are you ready to go to Sandra's?"

She hoped they'd go together. His jealousy shouldn't exist. Sighing, she told him, "Let's get this over with."

Following her out the door, he put her shoes on the kitchen counter. She'd forgotten about them and turned around. He watched her slip her feet in and told her, "I bought a bottle of wine for us to give."

Her eyes followed him while he opened the fridge, taking out the bag. She called out, "I'll put it on the seat next to me."

"We're going together, on my bike."

His dark, pensive face broke her. "Tomorrow, fine. We do what you want. But tonight we're seeing friends, Jay. When we break up, we're going to be friends with the same people. And for the record, you're not cute at all at this moment."

His eyes darkened when the elevator opened. Getting inside the small room forced her to gulp for air. Jay lowered his arms to his side. "I don't want to fight, Penny. And I was jealous. It won't happen again."

Keeping her eyes locked on the ground made telling him easier. "Wyatt won't ruin your plans. He's my brother."

His intake of breath made her eyes move up to meet his. "Penny, you should have told me."

"You were sulking like a spoiled rich boy. I didn't like it."

The elevator door opened, and his dimples returned. Without touching her, he led her to his bike, and his butt did look great in his jeans. She only half heard him until he stopped to hand her a helmet. "I was jealous. There is a distinction. Now get on, cutie."

Now was her chance. She nodded and took the offer while he put the wine under his seat. He helped her sit before he joined her. Broad shoulders made for leaning on, and all she had to do was inch closer. After the party, she'd tell him she wanted him. Waiting had been stupid. Hugging his rock-hard body sent a surge through her while his motor churned so loud she couldn't say a word. Speed and daring. She needed to be more like him.

The edge where she did what she wanted meant she'd live her dream.

After the party, she'd strip him naked. Yes.

# Chapter 21

They pulled into a spot. A few cars waited near her front door already. Jay stopped the vibrations under her leg, indicating the ride had ended. Inhaling his delicious male scent, Penny let go of his back and tried to control her raging hormones.

Letting out a small sigh, she let him take her helmet off her head. Her gaze immediately went to his blue eyes, which only increased the fluttering in her heart. Squeezing her hand, he whispered, "Let's go in."

Nodding, she waited for her breath to cool her down. They were at a party. He put her helmet in the holder and retrieved the bottle of wine. When she reached out to take it from his hands, an electrical spark raced through her. His eyes widened before he took her hand in his.

Walking up the steps with him while her skin stayed hyperaware only made her alert. Hitting the doorbell while hugging him didn't cool her down at all. However, when the door opened and a smiling, bubbly Sandra came out to hug them both, Penny relaxed.

More friends. She needed this, too.

"Jay, the flowers you sent me for my table are beautiful." Sandra hugged Jay while Penny stood next to them, holding the bottle.

"Is that for me?" Sandra stepped back from him to greet her.

Thrusting out her hands, she let go of Jay to offer it. "Yeah, a bottle of his favorite wine."

"You're both making me happy. Come in."

Penny followed them into the house while Sandra told them, "Remember when I introduced you both, and that mutual eye roll you gave each other? Who knew we'd be here now?"

"I was playing Wyatt on a video game," Jay recalled. "I didn't like Penny until she bested me in class with a math problem."

His detailed memory made her laugh. "Math makes sense. There is a right and a wrong, with no wiggle room of maybe, I wish real life followed more order."

Sandra put the wine down, pointing out Michael. "My brother is here, looking to talk to you."

"Good. I'll have another guy to talk to." Jay smiled, waving to Michael. "But first, Sandy, Wyatt called me today."

Penny started. Why would he throw that out there?

"He called you?" Sandy's voice went low and faltered.

Penny pressed her lips together while she held her elbow with her hand.

Jay leaned in to his cousin to tell her, "He's stationed overseas in Saudi Arabia after his deployment. He wanted me to say hi to you."

"Kurdistan, actually," Penny corrected Jay, which only made Sandra's eyes widen even more. Something had happened there, but Penny had no clue or how to ask.

Sandra fidgeted with the bottle in her hand before taking a step backward to the kitchen. "I have a few things to do. Please sit down. Enjoy."

Reaching out, Penny grabbed Jay's arm and whispered to ensure her friend didn't hear. "Wyatt didn't do anything to you. What happened between them?"

Jay shrugged. "I don't know. She gets upset but wants to know how he is."

Her tongue wanted to say something, but she held back as Sandy walked back toward them. "You haven't moved."

Penny let go of him, straightened out her shirt, then said, "I wanted to see if you needed help."

Sandra's smile came back. "Ahh. Well, come and help me in the kitchen."

Penny brushed past Jay's arm and she caught his blue eyes staring at her. Lowering her gaze, she followed Sandra to the kitchen.

Sandra stopped to fix a fruit tray. "I'm glad you're here. Eva's in a mood."

Penny shook her head. "Ohh, I have the papers for her outside. I forgot. Let me run out, get the keys, and bring them for her."

Letting out a deep breath, Sandra let her shoulders fall. "Yeah, Jay agreed. Good."

Penny nodded, her heart racing now, to ensure her friend stayed calm and happy. She dashed back out, almost knocking into Jay on his way into the living room. He put his hand on her waist. His face brushed the top of her head, stealing her every breath. "What's going on?"

"Give me the keys for a second." Her hands went to his stomach, intending to push him back, but her fingers curled into his shirt.

Winking at her, he reached into his pocket, traced her hand, and slowly removed it off his blue shirt, handing over the keys. Lowering her gaze and a smile growing on her face, she stepped outside to get the contract and be done with that business stuff.

Outside, she let the warm pink night sky relax her. Tropical heat always calmed her down and allowed her to think. Sighing, she relaxed her shoulders, found the manila envelope, locked up, and stepped back inside. She had all the time in the world.

When she opened the door, Eva's loud voice boomed in the air. "You dumped me for Penny. She's smarter than me on paper, but it's a low blow coming from you. She's not in your master-of-the-universe plan, so how do you think that makes me feel?"

"Master-of-the-universe plan?" Penny called out, refusing to turn into the shrinking violet afraid to speak up. "Are you trash-talking me or Jay?"

"Me." Jay ran to her side, putting his hand on her hip. She nodded at him, adding her hand on top of his while he whispered, "You were to give her the contract, letting me avoid her."

Penny squinted. That was his explanation? "Why did she say that about you?"

Eva rolled her eyes. "Please, Jay's a snob. You must know that about him."

Jay's face contorted. "No, that's not who I am. Just because I never wanted to sleep with you doesn't make me the bad guy in your life story. Now leave Penny and me alone."

"Are you gay, Jay? Is that what's going on?" Eva snidely asked while raising her shoulders mockingly.

His body on hers hadn't been a lie. Penny let out a fiery breath before yelling back, "It's hard for you. I get that, but he wanted me over you. Get over it, Eva." Penny's hand shook while she handed the folder to Sandra. "I don't want to talk to anyone anymore. I'm going home."

Jay's hand on her back led her away, and she stayed in his embrace.

"Wait," Michael called out.

His voice hadn't been heard at all. She stopped and turned while she asked, "What?"

Michael took a deep breath and then went white as a ghost. He must be about to tell the truth. He sighed and told her, "Pen, don't let Eva get to you. Jay isn't the snob she claimed, but she did tell the truth on one part. Eva is denying much of recent history and it's not about you. I'm happy for you both..."

"You're rambling and not making sense, Michael."

"How would you know my recent history?" Jay homed in on one fact.

Michael turned red. "Because I was sleeping with Eva, two to three times a week, while she dated you."

Throwing her hands up, Penny said, "You're family. What happened to loyalty?"

Jay retook her hand and she turned to him. Molten-hot anger fumed in her entire body, though he kept her calm when he massaged her back, whispering in her ear, "I've got this."

She nodded and relaxed.

Jay turned to his ex. "Eva, not everything in life is about you." With that, he quickly led Penny to the door.

Her arms ached to offer him a hug, but his body tensed and he made a fist on his side. She stayed next to him, quiet, while he let the steam out of his body. The stifling humidity must have slowed him down too. Living in Miami, the heat expanded the body, forcing it to mellow.

Penny stayed silent while he handed her a helmet. Putting it on, he fumbled a little before reaching under her chin, telling her, "You stood by me."

With a jolt, she remembered how his body reacted to her. "We're friends."

"Killing me with the friend zone." He laughed while putting his helmet on and giving her a hand to climb on the bike. She nestled into him, resting her hands on his legs while he revved the engine. "Getting me all worked up is dangerous, Penny."

She coughed out her embarrassment, realizing her hands went on the upper part of his thigh muscles, close to his manhood. Laughing at herself, she slipped her hands higher fast. He was right. They weren't just friends.

He backed up his bike, then took off for home.

# Chapter 22

Penny awakened with an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. Jay had promised her that tonight they'd talk and have a good time at his party. She cleared her throat. Her lips were parched for coffee. Normal. She needed it to stop her dry throat. Heading to the closet, she picked out her best interview outfit and turned to look in the mirror. Her pupils were bigger than normal. No way. She had no time for a cold. She needed a job.

Turning away, she packed her work clothes into a bag. She crossed her fingers. New job. She needed it. She'd be secure if she did. Her hands only shook a few times as she applied an extra layer of makeup.

Closing her eyes, she told herself to relax. She'd do great. The forced smile stayed on. After cleaning up her room, she stepped out into the living areas.

"You look cute today." Jay's voice sounded scratchy and raw, sending her insides soaring at the compliment.

_Tell him._ The voice in her head hit her hard, but she couldn't. Tonight, and this weekend, alone, they'd have forty-eight hours to share. She held her mouth closed, hugged him, holding him tight for a second before she inhaled his mouth-watering, manly smell. She turned away. That was almost better than coffee. "Thanks. Wish me luck."

"I'm looking forward to tonight, Pen."

She was too. Stepping into the elevator, she gripped the metal bar in the back and jumped. Sighing, she settled down. Soon she'd come clean about her job and have a new one lined up.

She had heart palpitations while parking. She had to get this job. Three thousand wouldn't get her far in Miami. The Jeep, rent, loans. Adding it all up, she figured she had six weeks until she suffocated.

"Stop it," she told herself out loud before getting out of the car. Worrying never solved anything. Her quivering muscles couldn't be helped. Sighing, she made her way into the building. After going up the stairs, she stared at the impressive block letters in the lobby _Penelope Investments._

She crossed her fingers, hoping it was a good sign. The owner had her name. Yeah. Her racing heart slowed down a bit. After signing in, she stepped into the waiting room, where at least a dozen people sat in chairs. Someone's heavy perfume caught in her throat, making her wince. She took a seat and told herself to calm down and ignore it. Closing her eyes, she remembered Jay's sexy man smell.

Tonight started off a fun weekend.

He'd never face her troubles, but then, he worked for himself. She'd never have the upfront cash to invest in her own Penelope firm, though she'd have that man naked in her bed tonight. A giggle burst out of her mouth while other people scowled at her.

"Ms. Knightheart, the committee is ready to see you now."

Nodding, she stood up, straightened her skirt, and followed the indication of the secretary's wrist. At the door, Penny fixed her top, rolled her shoulders, then walked inside.

Two men and a woman sat across the glass table. Modern square vases, black wood moldings—all screamed to her rich but classy. Penny straightened her spine, then took the seat in the middle of the firing squad.

A woman with glasses asked, "Why did you leave Tallahassee to move back to Miami without a job?"

Her mouth opened with a ready answer. "I moved in faith, believing I had a job waiting for me here. But the company restructured and my position was eliminated shortly after my move. Now I'm seeking a job that uses the skills I acquired at UF."

She bit back her smile. She'd sounded like an adult there. The man to the woman's right fixed his glasses then asked, "You're a Gator?"

Nodding, she smiled. "Yes, sir. Though I will work with anyone."

The other man added, "The boss is UM. He enjoys the Hurricanes."

"So is my roommate." She smiled, relaxing. "I'm not into sports anyhow, so it won't be an issue."

The woman wrote something down, then glimpsed at Penny's shoes before telling her, "Your qualifications are impressive. Can you tell us a bit more about how you see the job you're applying for?"

She answered the question and about a dozen more before the woman told her, "The final candidate will be chosen on Monday morning. Are you available for a second interview with the CEO that morning?"

"Absolutely." Penelope stood up, holding in her excitement.

"I'll have our secretary call you when she makes the schedule."

Penny didn't contain the excitement in her smile when she left. She made it past the cattle call outside. The job fit exactly what she needed, and it paid well.

She couldn't wait to meet this Penelope woman.

Her steps had an extra bounce all day, and time flew by. At five, she bolted for the door at the pizza place to fly home and get ready for tonight's party.

On the second light home, she realized she hadn't bought a dress. Putting her finger in her mouth to bite instead of scream, she jerked the car into a parking spot. There was a department store around the corner. If she ran, she'd get something there.

She stared at her phone. She had no time to shop. Then it rang.

"Jay, I'm running late. I don't have a dress."

He laughed at her. "Shopping is a job unto itself. Come home. I'll have something delivered. I'll call one of my favorite places. Consider it a perk of tonight's job."

Could she take his money? She let out a breath. "Okay. I'll pay you back."

"Don't worry about it."

Putting her hand on her forehead, she had to bend. "I'm on my way."

"Good."

Pulling herself up to the steering wheel, she added, "Shoes too. Matching shoes. I have my silver shoes, so tell them whatever you order they must match silver shoes."

"Are these shoes in your closet?"

Turning the key in the ignition, she hesitated. "Yeah."

"I'm going in to get the pair."

After checking her mirrors, she pulled back on the street. "Okay. Why?"

"I'll take a picture to send over."

She pulled onto US 1. She'd be home soon. "Ohh. Good idea, Dimples. See you soon."

"Don't forget you're my girlfriend tonight."

She giggled and hung up the phone. Tonight they'd enjoy each other. She needed the release, and somehow he'd be the one. Fate worked out after all.

She sped home fast. She'd almost ruined his night, forgetting the dress. When she pulled into her assigned spot, a van from Sandra's bridal boutique sat in visitors' parking. Aww. She'd been oblivious today. Duh. Her best friend owned a store. Jay invested. She'd never shopped on Miracle Mile for a dress, and didn't do that addition right.

Fingers crossed that meant discount.

Holding her breath, she swiped the elevator. The pulsing in her veins whispered to her to kiss that man, but she'd play it cool.

He sat on a kitchen stool, talking to someone on the phone. His black dress pants were tight and she stared at the muscles in his legs. She gulped, gazed away, then raced past him. Behind her, she called out, "I'm grabbing a fast shower."

"You're in jeans."

Biting her lip, she tilted her head, "Long story; talk later. Shower."

After closing her door, she cleaned up. Fifteen minutes later, she shook the water out of her hair and sat down at a vanity, turning on her hot flat iron.

The humidity wouldn't matter if she stayed cool. Picking up her body lotion, she lathered herself up with the scent of vanilla. The scent relaxed her. Almost an hour later, she stayed in her robe and peeked her head out, "Is the dress here?"

Jay strutted, all proud of himself, handing over a purple dress on a hanger. Reaching for it, she brushed past a box attached. "You bought shoes."

"I wanted the best and told Sandra. She picked everything out."

"We'll talk later."

She'd yell at him later. Picking up the dress, she dropped the shoes on the bed. The purple had a modest-cut jeweled neckline and one sheer long-sleeved arm, all made from silk. The right leg had a cut on the leg, but until she put it on, she'd never imagined the slit went up to her hip.

She stood up and stared at herself in the mirror. Her entire leg could show if she stepped forward too fast. She could not wear this. It would be modest and pretty if not for showing off that much leg. One wrong move and she'd show everything to the world. Staring at the wall brought her clarity back. She had no choice in what to wear. She'd have to be super-careful tonight.

She sat on the bed and gazed at the box. Opening up to look at the shoes, she almost dropped them. Louboutin? The silver shoes cost more than her severance pay.

"I can't wear this," she called out through the door.

He called back, "Let's go. It's fine. I get a discount with my cousin. She picked everything out for you."

Going to the door, she touched the handle while calling out, "It's not modest enough. I won't be comfortable."

His voice sounded close. She exhaled and listened. "You're there to be my date, convincing people we're dating. The red-carpet look is what I need. Please, Penny. You promised."

Gulping, she made her move. Watching his eyes grow wider staring at her and his mouth drop open sent heat coursing through her. She lost part of her argument.

"You're beautiful, Penny."

Did her blush go down her leg? Looking away from him, she hoped not, though the liquid warmth running through her had little to do with the humidity of Miami. "I'm going to make a fool of myself."

He touched her hip. The silk offered no protection. Gulping, she gazed up, and he spoke low and slow. "Stand next to me. Keep your head up and don't let my mother or any of her people get to you."

Her knee bent up, touching his leg. Looking down without pulling away, she told him, "Easy for you to say."

He leaned closer. His mouth came close to hers. "I'll be kissing you when we arrive, and throughout the night. If you freak out over anything, come to me."

Her heart thumping she hoped he'd start without the audience. "Dimples, you make it sound easy."

Stepping back, he ran his hands behind his head for a second. "It's boring and simple. I wish we were watching a movie in our sweats."

Going forward, she stood next to him, offering him a smile. "I'd like that too."

"Trust me tonight."

Taking her hand, he kissed her cheek. Later, she'd let the flirt out of her. But first she fought back a sigh. She couldn't sigh all night, every time he touched her. It would be bad. Leading her to the elevator, she clutched his arm tighter.

When the doors opened, he led her to a waiting limo. Tonight, she'd be Cinderella.

# Chapter 23

The white sands near the ocean sparkled from the artificial lights of the hotel's exclusive place on South Beach. The crashing waves held back, elusive, in the evening night, much like how her body reacted. She couldn't settle down. Jay spoke on his phone to someone about business while they hummed along in the quiet limousine, so she sipped on her free champagne. Her mother would love this offer, and no matter how sweet the drink in her hand was supposed to be, it didn't go down right.

The limo rolled to a clean stop to the voices of people saying, "Smile." "Look this way," echoed in the walls.

Jay put his phone away and touched her shoulder. "Your eyes are big. Don't be afraid of the red-carpet nonsense. We're not celebrities."

Gasping for air, she admitted, "I don't know what to do. I'm not Eva."

When she stepped out, she'd enter a world she had avoided all her life. She froze. Before she had a second to breathe, the chauffeur opened the door to blinding lights.

Jay leaned to her ear. "Stand up, smile, and wait for me."

Nodding, she followed his directions. Before she could straighten up, the blinding whiteness disoriented her. His voice echoed in her head, and she pasted on a smile. Jay's hand on her back calmed her, though she needed to grab his arm. He'd lead. She'd follow. Not that she could see anything. When she turned toward him, the lights stopped blinding her, and she smiled seeing how his dimples grew wider when he gazed down at her. Laughing, she stepped closer. Opening her mouth to say something, she understood the split second before he intended to give her a light kiss. Sighing, she hugged him even closer, so her breasts touched his body, deepening the kiss. Every cell in her body stirred, craving far more.

He groaned, ending the kiss, though keeping her in his arms while people snapped pictures. He gave her a sweet hug, then walked her down the red carpet to the open doors of the hotel. As they got closer to the building, her sight began to clear. How did he see through that? She went up one step, and the crowd of people in designer dresses drinking and laughing crystallized. Tonight, she'd see something far prettier than her prom.

He spoke to the doorman while she waited for a moment. When he came back toward her, he told her in a low voice, "You are amazing, Penny. Come say hi to a few investors with me."

Nothing about that kiss. His groan made it sound like he was pained to end it. She'd ask after this party.

They walked through the bar area. Socialites were gathered with noses in the air, just like she had imagined. Rolling her eyes, she kept a firm grip on his hand. The party already had that Miami pretentiousness everywhere. Women posed with simpers on their faces while men offered drinks. Turning away from one source only brought another group in her sights. The heat of the day added spice to everything from the bartender flirting with a few older women to the younger man with three women draped around him. Recoiling slowed her down for a second. The decadence and entitled culture spilled into everything she hated about rich people.

Jay kept her moving, and soon he walked her to the oceanfront section outside, where a small group stood with drinks. The people here appeared slightly more serious than the drones inside. Sparks shone in a few eyes. Straightening her shoulders, she relaxed. In her mind, she promised him she'd be the pretend girlfriend to make him proud.

"Pen, this is Wilson, Philips, and Danvers." He nodded at the men. "This is my Penelope Knightheart."

"We thought you were a lie, Miss Knightheart. Marshall made you sound idyllic," one of the men said. Jay's last name. Cute.

Another man added, "Ignore Wilson. I'm Danvers. In New York, we expect our women to be smart, but I did have doubts Marshall's view on the mattered equaled what my mother had instilled in me."

She'd impressed them without opening her mouth? What did these people think of Miami, and why did that cause her body to tighten up with agreement? Shaking the man's hand, she told him, "Your mother sounds like a good woman. Jay talked about me?"

"Did you doubt it, Pen?" Jay beamed down at her with a twinkle in his eye. A shiver ran through her. Tonight had to happen.

Squeezing his arm, she shrugged. "Dimples, I'm surprised you talked about me at all."

He stepped closer to her while he told the group, "I'm going to get her a drink. Please keep her safe for me. I'll be back in two minutes."

A cold shudder rushed through her. He intended to leave? She touched his belt on the side, forcing him to look at her. He winked and nodded and somehow she understood. She'd be safe, though he took her hand. "Be yourself and relax."

Letting him go, she flashed a smile at the three men. While Jay walked away, Danvers told her, "We sound like a law firm without our names, I'm sure. I needed to see the type of person Marshall spends his personal time with to get a full picture of who I'm doing business with. Would you mind indulging me with a few questions?"

_Be yourself._ Jay needed someone who knew him. This explained why it had to be her. "Sure, what's the question?"

"Where did you meet Marshall?"

Tapping her hand on the table, she hoped they stayed this easy. "In high school. I became friends with his cousin, Sandra. She brought me into the math league."

Danvers nodded at her. "Good. Unlike most sharks here, Marshall plays a long-term game. I like that about him. Would you consider moving to New York?"

For a job, absolutely. Leaning closer, she mimicked his movements. "Absolutely. I've wanted to leave Miami all my life. I'd love to get a job where I can raise a child to be proud of the inside person. It's more important than the outer shell of anyone."

Jay's deliciously warm hand on her back made her lean back into him before he handed her a cocktail. She stepped closer, giving him every indication to stand beside her. His dimples returned when he stayed close. Taking the glass in her hand gave her something cool to hold. Jay told Danvers, "Told you she's a keeper."

At least he recognized her value. Something hit in her gut hard. She'd never thought he would. Jay was a smooth-talking rich boy, always with an agenda. What had changed him and why hadn't she noticed?

Her eyes stayed staring at that scar near one of his dimples. Maybe it hadn't been a bar fight. Could be more. Why had she never questioned him? She should have asked and would tonight, when they were home. Sighing, she took his hand, hoping he saw the real her too.

Eva's voice echoed through the air. "Penelope. Jay. There you both are."

The sparkle in Jay's eyes disappeared. She smoothed out his shoulder and offered a gentle squeeze. Penny refused to let Eva say anything to ruin his business. When she came close, Penny turned and greeted her with an offer of an air kiss on the cheek. Just the way everyone else in Miami said hello. Pulling back, she stayed at Jay's side while tilting her head. "Eva, how is the play Jay sponsored for you coming along?"

Giving her the Hollywood glamour smile and pose, Eva animatedly beamed excitement. Penny dropped her mouth in shock while Eva told her, "Amazing. It's why I came over, to thank you both."

Penny couldn't stare at the glare without letting it steal her own self-confidence. Peeking to her side, she glanced at the other men's reactions. One straightened his tie. Another brushed at the cloth of his pants. Jay remained frozen. Chewing on her lower lip didn't stop the slight thumping of her own heart. She'd never get that reaction. Yep, Eva's beauty surpassed everything else in the room when it came to how men saw women. At least Jay had asked for her on his arm tonight. It warmed her up a little. Penny's eyes returned to Eva's beauty. Penny reached out and hugged her with her free hand. "I'm happy to hear that. Jay was talking business with these men."

Eva's eyes sparkled. "Come with me for a minute, Penny. We'll get our picture taken, showing we're still friends."

Jay squeezed her hand while she nodded at Eva. She whispered up to him, "I'll be back in one minute, Dimples. Talk to your friends."

Gulping, she followed Eva inside to the glittery people. She'd get her answers about him when they were alone. Going inside, she saw Sandra and Michael sitting at a table. Sandra sprang up and hugged Penny. "I'm so happy to see you. Last night, I was so angry at my brother. Please don't be angry with me. I had no idea."

"I could never stay mad at you." Penny nodded to her best friend before turning to Eva and Michael. "You both should have been honest with Jay from the beginning."

Eva lowered her eyes, and her cheeks turned a little red. "Penelope, you're right. I thought Jay would be perfect and not want me because of my looks. I was wrong, though. He has this wall around him near me that he doesn't have with you. Last night was the first time I saw that he cared about anything."

Eva had always been the strong one in the group of girls. Nothing ever dug deep enough to get to her. Clearly, something had. Swallowing, Penny said, "You'll find the right one."

"Don't be nice to her, Penny." Michael shook his head. "She made that play for Jay when you weren't here. Now she's admitting what I told her."

Sandra put her hands on her hips, "What did you tell her?"

Michael gazed at all three of them with his eyes horrified that they didn't see something. "That if Penelope came back to town, he'd dump Eva."

Sandra yelled back at her brother, "Shut up. You couldn't know that."

"I lived with him," Michael added. "He's been driven and angry until Penny came back. He'd calm down only when told not everyone would stab him in the back, and he spoke about life being easier in high school."

Sandra backed down and touched Penny's arm. "You're making my cousin human again."

Penny swatted her arm off. She couldn't be serious. What were they talking about? And why did she think his scar blended into whatever they talked about? "Look, I have to get back to him."

Sandra nodded. "Okay, we'll get lunch. The three of us girls can go shopping. It will be like old times."

Sandra and Eva shopping while she followed behind, broke. If she landed the job on Monday, she'd agree. Right now she smiled and told them, "See you soon."

Flashes of light followed her on her way back, but she squinted, refusing to be blinded again. Stepping onto the patio area, she sidestepped some man leaving when she gazed across the open air. A tall, buxom blonde aimed straight for Jay. Not that he noticed the woman. He talked to the men. Hanging back, she needed to watch. The girl stared at her friends, then walked backward into Jay's conversation.

He moved a little away from the woman, and Penny's heart soared. He'd stopped being dazzled. She boldly walked ahead now. All her life, she'd taken the side door, escaping men who got women without effort, but now she saw Jay seeking more. Sliding next to him, she kissed his cheek. His smile showing that dimple appeared before his hand went to her back, to keep her close. Penny's body warmed as she peeked behind her, seeing the beauty walk away.

Jay massaged her a little. Relaxing, she gazed up at him, then he asked, "Everything settled in there?"

She stroked his arm. "Yes. Sandra and Eva want to do lunch."

A small tremor shot through her and she sighed. His lips came close to hers before he stepped back to tell the others, "Will you excuse us?"

She followed his lead and heard her own heartbeat. She wondered if her skin flushed, showing how warm her body was, and it wasn't from the humidity in the air. Looking back, she saw the spark in his eyes, only making it worse for her. He stopped at the quieter dockside walkway to the ocean. She smelled the salt in the air, only making her moist mouth thirstier for him. He tugged her hand up closer, then asked in a low voice, "Penny, can we go soon?"

"Good—" Before she could say anything else, he claimed her waiting lips in a kiss. Wrapping her arms around him, she couldn't say anything. She didn't want to. He tasted better than anything she'd imagined in her high school dream. A moan escaped her lips. Her fingers played with his hair while she didn't let go. All that mattered was keeping him.

He stepped back, though his breathing wasn't even. "I don't want to stop."

Now. No regrets. No one else ever had them, and she shouldn't either. Focusing on his eyes, she stroked his arm before she could say anything. Finally the words formed. "Good. I don't either. Take me home."

# Chapter 24

She needed him to touch her, though getting into a limo had to be done one at a time. Sitting down, she lounged on the backseat, taking up the entire space. Propping her head on her hand, she laughed when he picked up her legs to join her.

He kept her naked leg in his arm, stroking her skin, sending fire throughout her body while she sat up a little. The limo pulled away from the curb, and she had a new idea. That little spot of skin couldn't get all the attention. Climbing on his lap caused him to chuckle and show off his dimples. Putting her hand on his face, she stroked that sexy smile that reached his cheeks. He hit the button to roll up the partition while she settled more firmly on his lap.

Rubbing her lower back, he held her closer to him. Awareness of how his erection grew became obvious, even through their clothes and her sheer thong, the only underwear she found that wouldn't show under the dress. He stroked her body then whispered, "Penny, this isn't a one-night thing for me."

She couldn't think about anything but living in the moment. "Stop talking and kiss me."

His eyes closed and his hand went up her spine, to her neck, massaging her. "That's not all I'll do."

She ran her cheek on his and teased her closed lips on the stubble of his chin, causing him to close his eyes and sigh before guiding her face closer to his to claim a kiss.

Her hands traced his shoulders, lowering to his torso, unbuttoning his jacket. His kiss sent smoking-hot desire through her. She couldn't think and lost track of everything but the electricity rushing through her veins and the need to touch him.

She stopped moving when the limo stopped. Letting her go, his hands traced down her body, stroking her exposed thigh. With firm eye contact, he told her, "We need to get upstairs."

With a few swats of her palm, she tried to smooth her hair into place, but it didn't work. She'd need a brush to fix herself, but with his hand waiting for her outside, that could wait. She shook her head to get the heat out of her body. Then she caught her breath, took his hand, and stood as gracefully as she could muster. Her knees went weak and she swayed, but Jay was close. She grabbed hold of his shoulder.

After steadying her with his hands, Jay stepped away to speak to the driver. Reaching down, she took off her fancy designer shoes to hold in her hand and walked to the front door. Her heart leapt in her chest when she heard Jay's feet running to catch up to her. He squeezed her hand at the door, pulling her with him, before he called out, "Race you to the elevator."

She caught his hip, pulling him back to her, while she figured out how to win. Running her hands up higher, she used that motion to push herself in front. "Dirty cheater, Pen."

She giggled. "Dimples, you were just getting a sample."

At the door, she turned a moment before he pressed into her. Her neck craned up his jaw line while she pressed the button on her right.

He ran his hand through her hair, again, and stroked her face with his thumb. Stifling her moan took effort. She closed her eyes, daring herself. She could do this. Opening her eyes, she reached out to grab his sexy butt. Getting her to turn around. She followed his demands, being rewarded with a kiss that ignited every nerve ending in her body.

The ding of the machine behind her rang, sending a shudder through her when he walked her backward into the elevator. She fished her key card out of the bodice of her dress while his eyes sparkled in surprise. She held in her breath, and her skin flushed before she swiped the plastic.

He swallowed, licking his lips before he leaned forward to hold her, brushing against her exposed thigh.

The skin under her dress craved his fingers running over her entire shivering body. He told her, "I will have you."

Arching her eyebrows, she dared him. "No. It will be the other way around."

His mouth fell open while he reached the inside of her leg. "Shameless and sexy. Challenge accepted."

Facing those sexy blue eyes, she ran her hand through his hair. Watching his skin flush, she admitted, "I spent years planning how you and I would be."

He used her dress against her, circling his hand in the fabric on her backside, pulling her into him for another kiss. A moan escaped her lips.

The "ding" didn't stop the heat inside her, though he smiled, keeping her body in sync with his while they exited the elevator into their apartment. He smelled wild, clean, with a faint calling to the outdoors. Taking another whiff made her inarticulate.

At the door to her bedroom, he pushed the handle open while she smiled. "You going to undress me now?"

His eyes widened again. "Is that part of your fantasy?"

"Hell yeah it is." She rolled her head back and laughed, giving him access to her neck.

He growled out in between kissing her neck, "You won't be disappointed, then. Your body and soul are mine tonight."

"Big talk." She hugged his shoulder closer. He stepped back while he focused. Took him a second to get it. The dress was complicated. His fingers found the zipper underneath her arm, causing a gasp to burst out when he brushed against her gradually exposed body. Cocking her head up, she smiled. "Now show me."

"Stop talking, Sexiness."

He kissed the bottom of her chin while he unzipped the rest of the dress, leaving only the button holding her entire disheveled dress together. Boldly, he traced the back of his hands to her legs, lifting her up onto her bed while the dress fell, leaving her bra exposed to him. Opening her legs to kiss him closer, he stepped back, stood next to the bed, studied her dress, his forehead wrinkling until a smile built. Kissing her soft lips, he found the last button on her hip under the embroidery and unsnapped.

She pushed at his suit jacket, which followed her dress to the floor.

As he joined her on the bed, his lips kissed the upper portion of her breast, leaving her lightheaded.

Her fingers trembled while she unbuttoned his white shirt ,a barrier to his body on hers.

He trailed his mouth lower onto her breast, the bra offering no resistance, falling lower while he tasted her pink, swollen nipple. Her body bucked backward, pushing her chest farther into his mouth while she sighed.

Running her hand through her hair, she shivered.

He unhooked her bra. His eyes shone while he memorized every part of her body. She stroked his neck while he took his shirt off. Sitting up, she refused to let him go, and explored his strong chest while he threw off his pants. She kissed his bellybutton, forcing him to moan. "Penny."

Impatient now, she squeezed his butt to get him back on top of her. She needed his muscular body to erase any distance between them.

His fingers pushed her panties to the side. "You're more than ready."

Whispering in his ear, fighting off a moan, "I've been like this for you since the day we met."

His lips came closer to hers while his fingers went deeper inside her. She released that moan while his dimples grew. "Damn. I was a stupid fool."

Tugging off her underwear in one shot, she played with the waistband of his boxers. She reached behind him and squeezed his tight backside, then stepped up closer to him. "More, Dimples. I'm on the pill."

The dimples next to his smile showed and she rolled his boxers to the ground. He stepped out of his clothes then claimed her lips in a fiery kiss.

Soon enough he found a condom and pushed himself inside her body.

Her body bucked with tremors of delight before she lost all sense of herself, calling out his name.

# Chapter 25

Jay smelled of warmth and cedarwood in her bed. He snuggled closer under his arm, his hand slipping down her back. Sighing, she relaxed hearing his heartbeat. His fingers traced her arm, warming her when he kissed her shoulder. "Penny."

Turning her head, she met his baby-blue eyes while she yawned. "Dimples."

He kissed the top of her forehead while she adjusted to lie flat on her back, then let her hand trail down his muscular chest. Pushing her head up, she met his lips with a kiss. Growling, he held her closer. "Morning."

Her hands tugged at his shoulder. "Is this is dream?"

His cheeks scratched the skin on her face with his stubble. Both of his hands reached down, pulling her on top of him. "If it is, I need another sample."

Laughing, she pushed her legs over his, straddled him, and her body heated up. His morning hard-on caused her to grin and bite down her lower lip. Tracing his shoulders to pull him toward her, she whispered, "Good, 'cause I need you."

Heat in the apex between her legs sent waves of hot desire coursing through her body. His erection grew beneath her, before she pushed her body down on his. He let out a groan before he moved her hips lower, adjusting himself to semi-sit up. "Greedy this morning, Sexiness."

Her skin must have pinkened in a blush while she touched his body until he pushed deeper into her. Throwing her head back, she trembled, unable to say anything.

Soon she lost all sense of control.

Her head lay on his chest while they caught their breath. He laughed, hugging her. "Damn. Every day should start like this."

Sitting up fast, she met his eyes. "Yes. Are you hungry? I'll make us breakfast."

Grabbing her arms before she ran off, he tilted his head. "You don't have to cook for me. Let's go to the bakery down the street for a bagel and hot coffee."

Batting her eyes, she crawled back toward him. "Let's get a coffee at our favorite spot instead. They have bagels."

Claiming her lips for one more kiss, he let out one of his sexy growls. "Sounds good."

She rolled away, getting off the bed, and walked to her closet. She swayed her hips, knowing he watched. She breathed with her chest higher, but she dressed with a pair of shorts and a tank top. Brushing her hair, she pushed out her chest to let out a sigh as she watched him leave.

Her eyes stayed on his body. He'd been hot before, all lean in high school, but those defining hard muscles turned him smoking hot.

Gazing in the mirror, she saw her eyes appeared different. Smiling, she giggled. Did hot sex transform her? Standing up, she thought herself silly.

Heading to the living room, she met him when she bounced toward him. His eyes widened. Her heart banged in her chest, though she didn't know what that was when she told him, "Let's go, Dimples."

"We have to stop at the convenience store."

Looking up, she shrugged. "Why?"

"Something was different about those condoms. I want to buy another box."

Her mother came to her. Staring at her feet, she remembered how her mother had tried to get pregnant a few years ago and had visited the infertility specialists to get drugs and trick the then-husband. Her mother had taken extreme measures, though thankfully it hadn't worked. She shook it off. She'd never do that to Jay. Warmness stilled her heart when she stared back up. "Let's do this."

He nodded, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Good. When we get back, we'll shower together."

Laughing, she reached up to touch that infectious smile of his. "You're adorable, Mr. Perfect."

He hit her shoulder in jest. "Who's that? I thought I was Dimples?"

Winking, she gave him a saucy smile. "You're both. It's what I called you for years in my head, though it wasn't always nice. You've grown into the name so well, though."

Walking her to the elevator, he hit the button. "I like Dimples."

She let him brush against her shoulder. "Then it stays."

The elevator opened. He held her into his body and inside the elevator, kept his voice low. "Sexiness, you'll be my undoing yet."

When the doors opened, she reached into her back pocket, "You drive my Jeep. I'm not dressed for the bike this morning."

He eyed her car and asked, "You sure you don't want to drive?"

She stepped away and nodded. "I'm positive. This way I can tease you, seeing how good of a distraction I am."

She tossed the keys in the air. He flexed catching them. Her heart hammered in her chest again. He laughed. "Wild woman. Let's go."

Following her to the passenger door, he unlocked it and helped her in. Two seconds later, he joined her in the car. "We have a date soon...motorcycle to the beach and a picnic."

She grinned when he started the car. "You're on."

Ten minutes later, they pulled into the coffee shop. She unlocked her door to get out before he had a chance to open it for her, though he offered his hand to help her out. She reached out squeezing his palm. "Sexiness. Let's get that latte of yours."

Beaming at him, she couldn't help her happiness. Jay was better than she imagined, keeping her close, while they made their way through the line. On their turn, Jay said, "One nonfat cinnamon dulce latte and one cafe Cubano for me."

The server typed in the computer while asking, "Would you like extra shots for the Cubano, sir?"

Showing his dimples, he hugged her closer. "Naw. My girl here won't drink the poor man's crack. It's too strong for her. Thanks."

She squeezed him in a hug while she laughed. After using his card to pay, they stepped to the side. She was bouncing up and down in her sneakers, waiting, when her mother's shrill voiced called in the air, "There is Penelope, my baby girl. And Jay."

He froze at the new voice.

She turned her head and he dropped her hand, standing deadly still. His eyes blazed and his nostrils flared in that split second when he spat out, "Mother."

His mother stepped closer, coming between them. "We were talking about the two of you."

Penny's mother winked at her, taking her time to see what she and Jay wore. Did she turn white like she did when her mother plotted something to get a man? Her hands curled around her waist, where he'd been holding her a moment ago while her mother gave her a thumbs-up. Wincing, she saw a plan unfolding in her mother's mind, and she glanced away. She hoped the ground would open up and swallow her. She'd never be her. No.

The coffee person behind the counter told them, "Order's on the counter."

Jay picked up both drinks fast, taking a huge step away from his mother. She eyed the door, stepping right to his side. He ground his teeth to say something to his mother. Taking his hand, Penny tugged him back. "We're on our way somewhere. Talk to you both later?"

Grabbing her drink from his hand, she steered him out, though he kept cracking his knuckles. His mother had done something major. She'd ask him about it when he calmed down.

Running his hands through his hair, he opened the car door. She brushed against him getting in, and he put his hand out to help her. Before he closed her door, he said, "My mother went to yours. This is bad, Penny. If my mother who hates yours is now talking about us, then she's planning something bad."

The color of his face returned to a normal shade while she nodded. "Let's just go."

Noisy breaths preceded him closing her door. When he opened his door minutes later, he patted her knee. "We need to form a defense."

Penny fretted. She didn't know how to tell him that her mother would cause the bigger problems. It was in her eyes. Their perfect day was ruined fast. Her mother would love that she even hoped for a relationship with John Jay Marshall. He was everything in a man her mother had always searched for but never found, but he was also everything Penny swore she'd never want in a man.

And now it might be too late for her, cause she was falling for Dimples.

# Chapter 26

Sitting on the couch, he pushed his shoulders back, not finding any comfort. Following him, she held back, unsure how to start. Her eyes flew up to his when he met her gaze and spoke first. "Penny, I have to tell you, my mother intends to sabotage my company because she has a diabolical need to control me."

His mother? Sighing, she fidgeted with her clothes in an effort to explain herself. In a quiet voice, she told him, "My mother will not stop until I wind up pregnant with your baby, collecting child payments for the next eighteen years. I won't do that. I'm not a gold digger."

Giving her a curt nod, he set his jaw. "Sexiness, no, of course you're not. I trusted you even when I thought I lost the ability to trust anyone."

Putting her hand on her forehead, she managed a small smile. His words warmed her. Sitting up, she inched closer to him to put her hand on his knee. "Your mother is controlling. It doesn't mean all people have that capacity."

Leaning closer to her, he commanded her attention with his eyes. "We have to focus, Sexiness. My mother must believe she can work with yours to get what she wants."

What question did she ask first? She should have asked a lot. Straightening her shoulders, she asked, "Which is?"

His calm breathing was a good sign, though he tightened his fists. "Information. I have enough of it to take out my own father in business. I decided against it because my dad does whatever Mom says, but he's not a bad person, just weak. She cannot believe I'd let Dad off the hook, and thinks I'm playing him in business. My company will make more than they ever did by the end of the year."

She rubbed his back. "That's really good."

Turning toward her, he took her hand from him and held it. "Mom cannot use the trust fund she amassed to control me like she used to."

Lowering her eyes, then looking back up, she nodded. "Good. Congratulations."

Shaking his head, he kept her hands in his. "Penny, they are going to use my soft spot for you. I need to know if I am being stupid when I trust you."

Her legs turned into his. "I won't let them manipulate me. I have enough issues at the moment."

His brow furrowed. "What issue is getting to you?"

Now was not the time. Besides, her interview on Monday could solve the drama, and she would refuse to speak to her mother. Taking her hand out of his, she forged on. "Like, will all this drama with our mothers mean I will be showering without you?"

A laugh erupted out of his mouth, followed by that smile. Leaning closer, he kissed her lightly. "Still tender and delicious. I wish I had known years ago that you were all I needed."

A silly grin must have spread on her face. She broke through. Yeah. "Keep talking like that and you'll never get rid of me."

# Chapter 27

Waking up next to him after a small nap, she ran her hand on his arm, sighing. It was possible that she was falling for him, hard. His fierceness against the world only made him sexier. He stirred. She parted her lips, then debated. Should she tell him she'd lost her job on the first day and that she worked at a pizza place? Hesitating for just a split second, she decided it could wait till Monday. If she had a new job, then it didn't matter.

Instead she whispered, "Dimples, it's Sunday morning."

He traced her arm without saying a word, just a sigh.

Peeking her head up at him, she continued, "Sandy invited us to her house after she goes to church."

"I don't want to go anywhere. If we leave the house, I'm afraid something will end this."

He kissed her shoulder while his hands stroked her breasts. She stifled a moan. "I'll call her to cancel."

He pushed himself on top of her and held her hands, and his body only made her muscles relaxed and hot. Before claiming a kiss, he whispered, "She'll understand if you don't."

"Seven times?" She giggled the moment he rolled away the first time.

His sexy dimples whispered to her, "Sexiness, let's go for the double digits before the weekend ends."

Laughing, she kissed him, pulling him on top of her. "You're on, then. I'd like to see who's more eager after ten."

Petting her hair, he smiled. "It's a dare. I like it."

Monday morning, she woke up next to him while he slumbered. Looking at his peaceful face, she envied him. She'd sleep if she could. Suppressing a yawn, she kissed his cheek, whispering to his sleeping ear, "I'll see you after work today, Dimples."

When she emerged from the shower, he rolled over with his head propped on his hand while he took in the sight of her. She leaned on the bed to kiss him when he told her, "Sexiness, I might be in around six myself. I have to go into the office, but don't cook. I want to take you out."

"Deal." She smiled, kissed him, and bounced to the kitchen to get something to eat. Leaving the apartment, she hugged herself in the elevator. Everything would be amazing. She had Jay. She had her interview at three, and with any luck, she'd tell Jay her troubles tonight without becoming her mother. Walking out of the elevator, she didn't care that she bounced.

All was right this morning.

Serving pizza gave her a little short-term money. She'd at least stave off complete financial dependence on Jay until she found a job. Her heart raced every time someone's name sounded like his. Her customers told her repeatedly she seemed happy, which meant she only thought of Jay once every ten seconds. His work mattered to him, and she'd never be her mother.

Clocking out at two, she left work to change for her interview. One of her coworkers saw her in her suit and called out, "Luck, sweetie."

"Thanks." She nodded and headed for her car. Straightening her hair, she sucked in her breath, looking at herself. She needed grounding. Picking up her phone, she dialed the student-loan people. They would give her a good dose of reality scare, and she'd have to file for a short-term financial forbearance. She hit the buttons while she waited in the parking lot.

Rolling her eyes, she put her makeup away in her backpack, when the computer told her, "Account satisfied."

Raising her eyebrows, she hit zero for the operator. Maybe she'd dialed wrong. Dabbing at her makeup, she waited until the woman on the phone repeated the voice message. "Ms. Knightheart, the account was paid in full. You don't owe us anything."

Gulping for air, she stopped breathing. No. It was impossible, except that she was living with Jay. She'd ask him later. She told the woman, "Thank you."

She blinked. Jay had done this. She stared at the wheel of her Jeep, knowing the deal had been too good to be true. She punched in the numbers to the lender where the message repeated, "Account paid in full."

Her lips curled. When had he done this? She'd never asked him to take care of any of it. She shook. She would not become her mother. Not going to happen.

Didn't she make that clear?

Putting her hands over her nose and mouth, she forced herself to breathe. In. Out. Ten times. She'd go to the interview. She'd needed this job. Tightening her grip around the wheel of the car, she sped down the street.

How could he... No. She'd argue with him later. The job. She glued on a smile she didn't feel before she parked and refused to let it fall off her face. She would be a great mechanical engineer, and working for a woman with her name sounded fantastic.

Jay never... She stopped her blood pressure from mounting by counting to ten. The tension in her back needed to unwind, because she had to get this job.

After turning off the engine, she focused on the clipping sound of her heels on the pavement. In the office building, the sound changed on the marble. The tap became different when she stepped into the elevator.

Her shoulders relaxed when she stepped onto the floor of Penelope Financial, and her smile grew genuine when she said hello to the receptionist.

"Please take a seat, Ms. Knightheart. You're ten minutes early."

Nodding, she relaxed when she took the seat. Mechanical engineering. She'd studied this because math made sense. Buildings made sense. Looking to use people for money didn't make sense. She refused to go down that road.

"They are ready to see you. Please step this way." The receptionist opened the door for her. Jumping up from her seat, she tightened her fists. She'd get through this and impress the people.

With confidence in her step, she walked into the room. The chair waited in the middle, again. She kept her head up and smiled at the three people while heading to the center. The fourth one had his head down, but her eyes narrowed, taking in his sandy blond hair. Her eyes sharpened on Jay writing something down on yellow paper.

Her heels froze in place. The woman told her, "Have a seat, Ms. Knightheart."

His blue eyes flew up in shock, while she quietly sucked in her breath, unmoving. Calling out, he told everyone, "Get out now. Penny, please stay."

Crossing her arms, she jutted out her chin. "No."

The three people flew past her out the door. Sucking air in her nostrils, she turned to leave but he blocked her way.

Jay's big eyes opened before he took her arm in his hand. "Why are you here? You have a job."

Pulling away, she yelled, "No, I don't, but that's hardly the biggest secret between us. Why is my name on the door?"

He inched closer to her, but she stepped backward, shaking her head.

Dropping his hands to his side, he smiled. "Penny, wait. The job beside me is yours. It always has been."

Her legs planted themselves in a wide stance while she put her hands on her hips. "So you manipulate me, get people not to tell me about your company, and all the while think I'm beside you? Jay, everything has been a lie."

He ran his hands through his hair. "What happened to your job?"

She threw her hands to her sides dejectedly. "The position was terminated before I ever started there."

Jay took a step closer to her, but she took a step back. He kept his chin up. "Where have you been?"

She bit her lip then answered, "Working at a pizza shop."

His voice was low. "Penelope, I named my company after you."

Penelope Financial. She dropped her hands and her body shook a little. She covered her face. She was becoming her mother. She couldn't look at him in the eyes. "'Cause you saw me as the biggest idiot you ever met?"

He brushed her arms, stepping closer. "Because you were the one person in my life that didn't use me for my money. You liked me."

Turning away from him, she covered her face with her hands. "No. You're not going to manipulate me anymore. I'm so tired of lies and money and how people use it to get what they want. I liked you for you, but you turned me into my mother, using your money to keep me."

Leaning into her, he told her, "Stop."

"I called the student loan company." Her chin trembled.

He froze in place.

A whimper escaped her lips, but she couldn't. Pushing him away, she raced out the door. Her heart beat so rapidly, and she didn't know what to do. Flinching when she heard his office door open behind her, she ran into the elevator. Alone, her chest caved in. She had to go somewhere.

He'd find her at home. No. She only had one place left to go.

# Chapter 28

Staring at her mother's driveway, she collapsed on the wheel. Most women got to come home to loving mothers who listened. Must be nice to be them. Sucking in her breath, Penny stepped out. The tightness in her chest transformed to her heart pounding. She stepped out, mentally rolled up her sleeves, and intended to yell. Geneva had plotted something, and Penny needed to end it. She would never be her. Never.

Flexing her fingers, she buzzed the doorbell. Her lips formed a straight line, and the humidity only added to the heat growing inside her.

Jay shouldn't pay for her. Pounding at her mother's door, she heard the scurrying footsteps inside. "Open up, Mom."

Her mother opened the door, letting a cool breeze of air conditioning out. "Penny, I didn't expect to see you."

She pushed past her into the house. "I'm here to talk."

Her mother smiled. "I'm surprised. We should be celebrating your success, not fighting."

Her hands curled into fists. "Mom. What were you doing with Mrs. Marshall the other morning?"

Geneva shook her head. "Talking about you and Jay. But you are asking the wrong questions. Let me go get us something to toast with."

Throwing her hands in the air, she yelled, "I'm not toasting with you. What were you both plotting, Mom?"

"Again with the wrong question and focusing on the wrong things, sweetheart. His mother and I were having a disagreement. I want you to have his child. She wants you out of his life, but she'll let you stay, if I help her out."

Sweat formed on her back while she swept her hands through the air. She'd never get to be with Jay or have his child. Tears welled in her eyes, but she fought that back when she yelled, "With what? What did she want you to do?"

Her mother answered, "With a project, honey. Have you had lunch?"

Penny glared at her. "What project?"

"Borrowing his tablet. It was easy today. I walked into your place, took his tablet, and gave it to her. Now she won't object to you both getting together, so you should be happy."

Crossing her arms, she snapped, "Mom. Arrghh."

"Sit down, Penny. We have to talk."

Her mother's knowing eyes sent iciness into her. She shook and flinched, wanting to leave now. "Mom?"

"Sit." Geneva pointed to a seat. Penny followed orders. Her mother sat next to her, took her clammy hand, She shook inside. She didn't want to know this. "What did you do, Mom?"

"Just ensured you are well settled. You're my daughter and I want the best for you."

Her shoulders became tight staring at her mother's fake chest, toned skin, and cheery personality. "Stay out of my life, Mom."

"Then stay calm and head right back into bed with your sexy, rich boyfriend."

Whatever happened, this could not be good. "No. He's not my boyfriend."

"That boy's in deep when it comes to you, which only shows he has good taste."

Covering her ears, she yelled, "Mom, stop it."

Her mother's wide smile reminded her of an animal about to pounce on its prey. "No. Go home and have a lot more sex."

Her voice was shrill. "Why?"

Petting her knee, her mother gazed calmly into her eyes. "I want grandchildren."

Gulping. Her chest hurt. Covering her mouth, she knew. Oh my. "The condoms."

Her shoulders fell backward. "I replaced them. Took out the latex and replaced it with a lamb sheath. Paying the man off at the convenience store was easy. They don't pay them a lot anyhow. I also replaced your vitamins, and his, to ensure you have more than one this first time. We need his swimmers and as many of your eggs fertilized if we intend to get more in child support later."

Her mouth fell open before she begged, "Mom. I'm not you. Don't do this to me."

"I did this because I love you, sweetheart. Everything was going well. You should be happy. I'm not saying you ever have to leave him, if you don't want."

She became disoriented. This was too much. Turning away, she spat out, "I'll never be you."

"Fine, but you are my daughter. This is what's best for you."

Squeezing her eyes shut, she yelled, "I hate you."

Her mother's laugh boomed in the air. "Now go back to him."

She yelped, "I won't."

Her mother had a gleam in her eyes. Penny stared getting dizzy. What else could she do? Her mother gave her a grin. "You don't have much of a choice."

"What else did you do?"

"You don't have any money."

The direct eye contact, watching, assessing. She'd been like that with men all her life. Her eyes welled with tears. "Yes. I do. I'm leaving."

Her cheeks were wet when Geneva told her, "No, you don't. I'm your mom and your passwords have been the same since middle school. You don't have any money. I transferred it to mine."

"What did you do?"

"I took it to ensure you went back to your man."

What had she done? She did everything her mother wanted. She shook her head, and her tears burned her cheeks. "How did you get into my building? We have a doorman."

Smiling and looking pleased with herself, her mother put her chin out. "Ehh, he was eager and I'm your mother. I did what I had to do, sweetheart."

Pressing her hands to wipe away the tears, she stood up. "Geneva, we're done. There is nothing else to say."

"Go home, where you belong."

The slamming of the door echoed. She needed to scream. She couldn't be pregnant and she couldn't go back. No. The tears came back, uncontrollable, as she started the car. How could she let this happen? She knew her mother. She never should have come back.

She could never look into his eyes again. She couldn't do this. She stopped at the front gate of the community. Jay had one request and her mother had betrayed them both. Picking up her phone, she texted Jay. _Your mother stole your tablet. Be careful and goodbye._

Soon, she headed north on the highway. Sleeping with the gators couldn't be worse than staying in Miami.

# Chapter 29

Jay saw her text. Was Penny at home? His heart lifted. If she waited, he'd find her and apologize. Paying off her student loans had been pushy. Buying her the Jeep had made him happy but not helped.

Somewhere along the way, he'd enjoyed fixing her life. But he should have kept out. Lately his every other thought went to Penny. He had hoped to make her life happier, not cause problems. He hoped she'd accept his apology.

He parked his bike in the garage and ran inside. His heart raced in his chest as he waited for the elevator. He glanced around, and his gaze stared at the empty front desk. No doorman? Strange. The elevator door opened, and he ran his key card in the slot for access to home.

He stared up at the glass ceiling. Penny must have waited. It was a good sign. Maybe she'd forgiven him, then. He paid those loans so they'd both be free if anything happened, not to control her. In fact, part of his thoughts had been if they didn't work out, he'd not feel so guilty.

The door opened, and every cell in his body froze.

Someone barreled toward him and caught him unprepared.

Then someone clipped his head from behind.

He tried to call out Penny's name as he lost consciousness. He wasn't sure he succeeded.

# Chapter 30

She pulled her Jeep into the gas station in Jupiter, ninety miles away from the Grove. In her bag she had a little over a hundred dollars in tip money. On that she might make it to Jacksonville. Maybe. She'd likely stop somewhere else. Staring hard at the gas pumps, she slowly began to function again. She wrapped her arms around herself. How could she tell Jay? Her skin crawled while she got out of the Jeep to pay for gas.

She kept her gaze down. What if she was too late and her mother had won? She had nowhere else to go. Looking up at the night sky, she listened to the sound of silence. The gas fumes kept her grounded. Putting the pump back, she almost tripped.

She'd be a terrible mother. She couldn't walk straight. Her hand gripped her elbow until she climbed back into her Jeep. Looking over, she saw her phone vibrating. Her tears stopped flowing, though, stayed in the back of her throat. Taking a deep breath while keeping her eyes down, she answered. "Hello?"

No one said anything. She almost put it down when the message light flashed. Calling herself slow, she listened to the message. "Penny, it's Sandy. Please call me back. There has been an emergency."

Sandy? Penny's phone read "call failed" when she dialed her back. Taking one last look at the gas station, she ignored her hot cheeks and eyes. Jay deserved better. And she had no place else. He had to be fine. He better not have been in an accident on that bike of his. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he turned the car back south on the highway. Once she told him the truth, she'd be fine. Being in the middle of nowhere on a highway, her mind raced with what that message said.

When she hit West Palm, almost an hour away from home, her phone finally worked. Sandy answered. "Penny, where are you?"

Sandy shouldn't have to be burdened with her too. She said, "On my way back. What happened to Jay?"

"It's bad. He's still unconscious."

He didn't deserve that. She flinched. He had to be fine. "Where are you?"

"Jackson Memorial Hospital."

Back in Miami, an hour and a half away. She couldn't speak for a moment, but she did speed up a little. Her heartbeat raced. The words stayed low, near a whisper. "I'll be there."

"Hurry."

She couldn't ask the right questions. Before she could form the words, Sandy hung up. Her whole body shook when she kept picturing that motorcycle. He couldn't die.

Gulping for air. Her fingers gripped the wheel when she found a spot in the garage. Her legs wobbled when she walked through the door. At the front desk, they pointed her to the ninth floor. Getting into the elevator, she fought being dizzy.

"Penny."

Hugging her friend helped stop her thoughts from flying around her head. "Sandy. What happened?"

Taking her hand, Sandy led her down the hall. "He was found beaten, but he's awake."

Her mouth fell open. "How? Who?"

Petting her hand, Sandy grimaced before she told her, "At your home. There was a home invasion he interrupted."

Her entire body stiffened. Was the doorman sleeping with her mother again? "That doesn't make any sense."

A chest pain hit hard. Her skin tingled. Was her family involved? Biting her lip. She shouldn't be here.

"He's been asking for you."

Teary-eyed, she followed without question. At the door Sandy stopped and used her hands to get Penny to go inside. Her legs went weak as she walked in, but she moved. Her body began to shake when she saw bruises on his face. Lightheadedness assaulted her on her walk. The beeping of the machines near him made no sense. Covering her mouth with her hands, she came next to him, putting her hands on his. "Jay."

Nodding. Her body warmed up when he slightly lifted his head and his blue eyes met hers. "Penny."

She touched his hair, arranged his blankets, and kissed his cheek before sitting next to him. He'd be okay. Her heartbeat went back to a normal pace, and the ache in her throat eased the smallest bit. In a quiet voice, she told him, "I'm here, Dimples. I'm not going anywhere."

Tears rolled down her cheeks when he took her hand. "I'm sorry, Penny. I'd never hurt you."

The bruises on his face didn't take away from the light in his eyes. He deserved to know everything, but she had no idea how to start. Stroking his forearm to not upset him, she said, "I don't know what to say."

He squeezed her hand, and his jaw set firm while he attempted to sit up. But the monitors went off. "Penny..."

The doctors rushed inside and she stood up. "I'm here. Lie back down. Everything will be fine."

Pressing his lips together, ignoring the doctors, he told her, "No. Go. Run."

Where? She had no place to go. She patted his knee while a nurse took his pulse, though his eyes never left hers.

Someone in a white coat asked her, "Can you wait in the hallway, miss?"

Penny nodded at Jay one more time before going out to see Sandra. "Why aren't his parents here?"

Rubbing her forehead, Sandra glanced around the hallway before answering. "He didn't tell you? I have his power of attorney in case something happens to him."

Penny bit the side of her mouth. She should have asked. She should have seen a lot of things. Shaking her head, she stepped closer. "No. What happened to his parents and Jay?"

Tilting her head, Sandra pursed her lips. "He should tell you that."

Penny bristled. She'd have to be more like him to get answers. "I should have asked a lot of questions."

Frowning, Sandra gazed down. "You're here. It will help."

Sandy's eyes were close to tears. She knew.

"Why me, though?"

Penny fumbled and almost fell back a little. Then her feet steadied, but her shoulders caved closer to her neck. "Penny, he doesn't have a lot of people he can be open with and trust. I set him up with Eva when I thought you weren't coming back to Miami."

"I wasn't on his radar."

Sandra held back a sob. "You are wrong on that one."

Covering her mouth with her hand, Penny gasped, then nodded. "He named his company after me."

Sandra breathed in easier then smiled. "Ahh. So you know."

She shook her head. "I don't know why."

Smiling, though her voice still had more unshed tears, Sandra said, "Men like Jay don't make friends. This attack will make it worse. I don't want my cousin going down a dark path. Please help me and be here for him."

All those things he had done to help her financially . . .. He likely meant to help her, but then so did her mother. No one listened to her. Closing her eyes, Penny told herself to stop fretting. When she opened her eyes, she set her gaze on Sandy. "I have a right to feel angry and betrayed."

Sandy took her arm and begged, "Penny, I don't know what he did to you, but don't abandon him now."

The guilt ratcheted up her spine. Her mother took money and ran. She'd never be her. Tightening her fists at her side, she made a decision. "I don't have anyplace else to be."

Sandy hugged her. "Thank you. Whatever he did to you, let him apologize."

She looked back at Jay's room. They had so much to talk about. She had so much to say. Hugging her friend, she nodded. "I'll listen when he does."

Through the window in the hallway, both women stared inside. Jay sat up in his bed arguing with his doctors. At least he'd be okay.

# Chapter 31

Going inside the home alone froze her. She couldn't do it. The nurses wouldn't let her in to see Jay again. Her feet rooted in the ground, she gazed around. So she found a seat in the hospital waiting room and sat. Yawning, she almost fell asleep when an orderly came in. "You can't stay here, miss."

Sticking out her chin, she explained, "I'm not going home. Not without John Jay Marshall."

"He's not allowed visitors."

Crossing her arms, she argued back, "And I'm not leaving here without him."

"Who is he to you?"

Dropping her arms and letting them fall to her side, she shook her head. "I don't know. First, a friend. Second, my roommate. Third, he might be my boyfriend. Fourth, I—"

"Wait. I'll see if I can get you in there."

She smiled. "Thank you."

He walked out and she brushed at her clothes and smoothed her hair.

"Follow me, miss."

She caught up, though he didn't speak. At Jay's door, he opened it, pointed her in, and took a step forward to watch the corridor. Her limbs understood before her brain to go inside his room. The door closed behind her before she had a second to catch her breath.

"Penny, is that you?" Jay's voice, low and weak, kept her moving.

Stepping closer to the bed, she nodded. "Dimples, where else was I to go?"

"You are not safe here. Not until I finish something, and I can't do it until they let me out of here."

She smiled. "I can help you."

His blue eyes darkened. She took a step back before she moved forward. "No. I can't let you."

Gulping for air, she stared at the black eye on his face. "Jay, my mother was more evil than you know."

He relaxed his shoulders and nodded. "And you don't want to go home without me."

No. Not just that. She should finish her sentence. Opening her mouth, all that came out was, "Yeah."

"I should kick you out."

Shaking her head before she tilted it. "You won't."

He sat up and his gaze never faltered. "I'm tired. Tomorrow, they let me out in the morning, and I'll try harder."

She stood beside him. "Tomorrow, I'll fight you."

Scooting over, he made room for her. She laughed at him and pulled up the chair with the ottoman to sit beside him.

Tiredness won for a while. Yawning, she woke up to sun streaming in her face and Jay staring at her. Just seeing him looking so much better made her heart race faster. Sitting up, she hugged her legs into her body and smiled up to him. She'd tell him today.

Before she could say anything, a nurse came into the room, stared at her and said, "He's not to have visitors."

Jay's voice stayed direct and firm. "Penny's my girlfriend, and she's not going home without me."

The nurse snapped on a glove. "Well, that makes the exam more difficult. I was hoping once I finished with you to start the paperwork."

The sun shone outside. Penny jumped out of her seat and told him, "I'll go get coffee. Be back during visitors' hours."

Penny picked Sandra up on her way to the shop. "Thank you for getting me."

"No problem. What happened to your car?"

"Battery. Michael is getting it fixed. My place is going through a major remodel and I'm so tired of breathing in sawdust. Now let's get going. And Jay wants coffee. He texted me."

Penny kept her eyes on the road. He could have texted her, but he chose his cousin. She had no right to be jealous. They were family, and she was driving. Gripping the wheel, she decided to ask more questions. This time, she'd be more proactive with her life.

Sandra closed down on answering what happened to Jay last night, but Penny had a new tactic. "I stayed with Jay last night instead of going home."

"I'm happy for you both."

Pushing her shoulders back, she pulled the jeep into traffic while answering, "We have a lot to work out."

"You will."

Keeping her grip on the steering wheel tight, she asked, "So when did you become his power of attorney?"

Sandra's voice grew quieter. "About four months ago."

Penny pulled the car into the drive-through and ordered three cups of coffee through the speaker.

Sandra pulled up an app on her phone and reached over Penny to give it to the cashier before she had a second to reach for her pocketbook. Letting someone pay for her made her stomach feel heavy and empty. She kept her mouth shut, and the cashier took the order and passed Sandy her coffee. Sandy placed Jay's in the cup holder, and held her latte in her lap. They pulled away and Penny slowly sipped her drink. The liquid sent courage into her body, relaxing her. Taking a second sip did the same glorious thing. Emboldened, she asked, "How old is that scar on his face?"

Sipping her coffee and looking out the window, Sandra said, "Can you ask him that one?"

Penny nodded. She had a lot of questions to ask. Putting together the pieces to this puzzle confused her. She pulled into the parking lot. "When did he start Penelope Financial?"

Sandy sipped her coffee while Penny parked. Without looking her in the eye, she answered, "A few years ago. I'm going to ask you to carry this in to him while I stop at the desk to get a doctor's report."

Penny pushed her head back on the headrest before getting out of the car. "I wish he'd never lied to me."

When they stepped out of the Jeep, Sandy told her, "He doesn't answer to anyone these days. But I'm glad it was you that he opened up to, even a little bit. Penny, don't accept anything less than the full truth from him. I don't even know that."

While opening the front door to the hospital, Penny glanced at the clock. Visiting hours started two minutes ago. She signed in at the desk, then asked her friend, "What if I can't get past that?"

Sandy had to do the same thing. Penny waited for her until Sandy looped her arm in hers. "We'll still be friends no matter what, but he's my cousin and much like a second brother. So I'm hoping everything works out."

Narrowing her eyes, Penny asked, "What happened between you and Wyatt?"

Sandra shook her head. "You don't want to know. Focus on Jay and learning to trust him."

Penny needed to figure out what to do. Hitting the button for the elevator, she told Sandra, "Wyatt's my brother. I don't know if you know that, but if he hurt you, we were friends first."

Going inside, Sandy lowered her voice. "I hurt him too. It's how everything played out that makes me sad, but don't let me be your excuse to not forgive Jay."

When the elevator beeped, Penny took the coffee from Sandra and made her way to his room. Pulling in her breath, she stepped into the room while Jay sat up on the bed.

"Get back into bed."

He put his shirt on, buttoning from the bottom up. Looking up, he smiled, showing off his dimples. "Is that my coffee, Pen?"

She'd start getting answers. "I'm not sure if I should give it to you. You lied since I came back home, getting me to live with you, when we hadn't seen each other in years. Why?"

He hobbled over to her, reaching out. "Can I have that coffee? I'll try to explain."

She handed it to him and watched him whiff the delicious, earthy smell of his drink. She took a seat, reminding him, "Sit back down."

He took one more sip of his drink, standing in his shirt and boxers. Smiling. She refused to fall for his sexy look. Luckily, he didn't notice, and put the drink on his tray. "I need to put my pants on first. The doctors will be letting me out of here soon. I have a broken rib, but that mends at home. They kept me overnight because I have money, but it's done now."

Tapping her feet, she stepped closer, looking him over. "Your black eye isn't helping your case."

Finding his pants, he stepped into them and quickly dressed. "It will heal. I've had worse, and I interrupted the robbery."

"My mother stole your tablet earlier in the day."

"I saw your text and deleted all access to files my tablet had. Someone who works for me must be working for my mother."

Smiling, she leaned closer. "Good. Now we're getting to something. Why me? And what did you get out of using me?"

He sighed. "How do I start? You were going to work for my father. I needed to know how deep my mother's roots went into his company."

Putting her hand in the air, she stomped. "So you knew I was coming back here to work. You never asked about my job."

Shaking his head, he sat on the bed to tell her. "At the coffee shop you said Mueller Enterprises. Dad's company. I thought I could spare my dad and that place, until you told me you'd been fired. My mother did that to you."

Inhaling, she circled him, though she kept her arms crossed. "Why did you name your company Penelope?"

His dimples appeared. "'Cause you're pretty."

She shook her head. "Try again. Shameless flirting won't work."

"I had to try." He coughed. His face contorted in pain before he sat straight. "The truth?"

Sitting next to him, she petted his leg. "Yeah."

"I didn't want my parents to link my name to anything at first." He grazed her arm. "Plus, when I did that in college I wanted a name no one would pin back to me. But it needed to be a name representing smart and loyal, and it also needed to be easy to remember. Your name kept running in my head. People remember names. You're smart and your name to me makes me think steady, trustworthy, and loyal. Everything a woman is supposed to be."

Holding in her breath, she wanted to stop. Her fingers ached to hold him again, but she crossed her arms a little tighter. "Why did we have sex, then, if you intended to use me as a spy?"

His eyes softened while looking at her, stealing her arguments. "Technically that didn't happen. I never asked any questions and you never told me you'd been fired."

Looking down, she stifled a soft sigh. "Question withdrawn. It could have been anyone. Why me?"

His hand stayed on her leg, unmoving, but the sparks inside her for him to do more grew. He kept his voice low. "You're beautiful, smart, and despite everything, I was falling in love with you. I shouldn't have lied, but I need you to leave now."

Standing up, she swatted his hand away. "Stop."

"What happened last night is why you shouldn't be in my life. I lied to you. Don't forgive me. Get out of here and don't come back."

She pushed her chest out and snapped her hands in front of her. "I'm not going anywhere, except home with you."

"No."

She leaned closer to him, hovering over his body. "That's all you have? Look, you've freed me from all my responsibilities in life. And Jay, I'm still angry that you used me and lied to me. But once upon a time I looked up to you too, and you need help. I'm going to nurse you back to health and help you through all this mess."

His voice faltered and his eyes blinked. "You can't. You need to leave, because whoever is after me will see you're my weak spot."

She put her hands on his knees. "You need help. I'm getting in my car to leave only if you are in the backseat. So we have two options. One, we ditch your plan and whoever did this to you and we leave."

His voice sounded dark and determined. "No."

Setting her jaw, she rubbed his legs higher and lowered her voice. "Option two. I take you home, feed you soup, make sure you're good, easing my conscience, and help you."

His grumble was for more than food. A slow smile of victory came over her, until he crossed his arms. "Option three, you take the hint I'm a jerk and you leave."

Unwrapping his arms, she put them on her hips while she laughed. "I knew you were that before I moved in, and I knew you had a heart in there to be my friend. So are you leaving town with me or sticking around?"

His arms didn't move, though his voice wavered. "Penny, this is stupid."

She'd take him home. She kissed his forehead. "I agree, Dimples. You're being stubborn for no reason."

Pulling her into him, he stopped and coughed. "You don't fight fair."

* * *

"What are you two arguing about?" Sandra stood in the doorway, holding papers. "I wanted you two to get along."

"Your friend is butting in when she should hate me and leave me alone." Jay's mouth went tight as his face winced in pain.

"Ten seconds ago, I was the girlfriend. Now I'm a friend." Penny pushed her head to the side in a dare before she finished. "Your cousin and I will be going back home today, and he's going too far in trying to keep me protected. But he forgets, thanks to him, I honestly have nothing better to do than nurse him back to health."

Walking in to join them, Sandra asked, "So you're staying to forgive him. I'm happy."

"No, she's not." Jay's argument didn't hold water. She'd help him.

Reaching for his chin, she met his gaze and directed him closer to her face. "Then you are dropping everything and getting into my car with me?"

His mouth dropped open. "No. Ok, fine. Security was updated and we'll be fine."

Penny smiled victoriously. She'd face off against Jay, deal with whatever he was up to, then take off. A small part of her heart cried out that he did love her. He'd told her, but she had to ignore that. But first, she needed to fully understand before she gave him her heart, though she feared her defenses were too late. She had a plan.

# Chapter 32

After dropping Sandy back off at home, Penny pulled into the parking lot with Jay sitting beside her. He hadn't said much, but the scowl on his face remained. When she switched off the engine, he mumbled, "I'm going to need five minutes with my tablet."

She understood this had to do with his mother, and she could use a few minutes afterwards to tell him what her mom had done. "I'll leave you alone."

Getting out, she intended to help him, but he held the frame firm in his grip and stepped down. His grimace softened her heart. He deserved better than that physical pain.

Walking backward, she kept an eye on him until they reached the door. She swung around to open it first. Looking back, she watched his nose turn upward. "You don't have to take care of me, Pen. I'm not a cripple."

She leaned closer. "You just left the hospital, Dimples."

Holding the door, she pushed back to let him pass. His wrinkled nose didn't scare her off. She held back a smile, though, staring at his thick crop of blond hair.

Following behind him, she sped up to pass him when the doorman, McCarthy, stepped in their way, stopping them. Taking his hat off, he held it at his chest when speaking to Jay. "I'm sorry for what happened, sir. The doorman who let people into your condo has been fired and is facing pending criminal charges. He'd been hired only last week, and we're looking deeper into his background now to see what the check missed."

Penny covered her hand with her mouth. What had her mother done? And what should she do? Jay kept his voice confident and steady, touching the man's arm. "I'm sure you're doing everything possible."

McCarthy nodded. "The police have all the videos and pictures of your assailants."

A chill ran down her body. More than one. Biting her lip, she stopped moving. Jay didn't look fazed. Her gaze shifted to his clear blue eyes. He knew more.

Jay smiled at the man. "I appreciate everything you did."

He sounded nice. Her eyes darted back and forth between the men while the doorman went back to his post. Blinking, she missed something. But what?

Putting his hand on her back, he told her, "Let's go upstairs, Pen."

She nodded. Finding what to ask took more effort than four years of education. She hit the button for the elevator. Tapping her finger on her face, she asked, "What did McCarthy do?"

He looked down and his entire face darkened. "He saw the tapes in the back room and sounded the alarm downstairs. He is the reason I'm still in Miami. Those men were attempting to find my business records."

The doors closed in the elevator. She came closer to him to look in his eyes and ask, "Is Penelope Financial on the up and up? Or are you involved with illegal people and things, Jay?"

Stepping back, he flinched like she had hit him. She'd clearly asked the wrong way. He shook his head. "I'm not, but I'm shutting down a business that was."

"You've been nothing but great to me. And I'll sound like a brat, but I have to ask anyhow. Does this involve your mother?"

He let out a deep breath before coughing. Putting her hand on his arm, she hoped she'd help him with that pain. Pulling back, he closed his eyes and focused. "Yes. I'm telling you again, Penny. You should call a cab, go get your car, and leave town."

The doors opened into their home. She stepped out first. "Let's go in. I'll make us dinner, and I'm not leaving because of your mother. What my mother did, maybe, but yours doesn't scare me."

As he followed behind her, she stepped into the kitchen. He stopped at the counter and put his hand down. "Penny, this isn't a game."

After taking some baking powder and butter out of the refrigerator, she set up her ingredients on the counter.

And in that moment, it hit her. When had her last period been? Her breath caught in her throat and she refused to look him in his eyes. Instead she gazed past him and tried to breathe. "No, my life is not a game. I won't be a pawn to my mother's plot. Go do your thing with the tablet. I'll make dinner, and then you tell me some more."

Going back to the fridge, she found hard bread. She'd pick out parts to make breadcrumbs.

From across the room, she heard his low voice. "What else do you want to know?"

Putting her supplies on the counter, she gazed up. His pained expression eased her questions. "What were those men after? Why did you get me to move in here to begin with? What's going on?"

Walking to the kitchen, he stepped past the counter and came close before asking, "The truth?"

She glanced up, her lips opened. "Nothing else but"

His face turned white as he turned around. "Follow me into my office."

After brushing her hands on her jeans, she did what he asked.

In his office, he took a seat on the stairs leading up to the second-floor patio. She stopped moving and opened her arms. "What's here?"

He pointed out the staircase and his eyes became stormy. "Go behind the staircase."

Laughing, she asked, "What are you pulling here, a secret room? I don't see anything"

Standing up, he gripped the banister and put his hand on her back. Taking her hand, he put it on the wall. "Push on that panel."

A door opened when she pressed her palm there. "I'll give you the extra remote. If you are going to stay here, we need to make some new rules for the next few days."

"Jay, you're scaring me."

"This is a safe room."

She couldn't blink for a moment. "I'd prefer locks and a door."

"In three days, maximum, everything will be settled. I should have acted sooner. But if someone comes here and you can't get out, go into that room and close the door."

"And the computer's in here?"

He rubbed his neck and his face darkened again. "It's what my mother's men were after. I have files linking Mueller Enterprises financially to organized crime."

Covering her mouth, she gasped. "Wait, I almost worked there."

"I know."

Dropping her hand, she touched his arm. "That's why you chose me?"

Offering a small smile, he asked, "For my date or to live with?"

"Date first."

His smile grew. "No. You can think on your own. That was the biggest part. And you're too genuine to lie to me."

Heat rose in her cheeks. She needed to tell him her mother's plot. "And to live with?"

He shook his head and paced back and forth. "I hoped I could spare my dad. I figured if you saw my mother there, you'd tell me. Then I'd have to buy out his business and put him in early retirement, ending any connections to my mother's friends."

Fumbling for the right question, she blurted out, "Your mother?"

Leading her out of the small room, he sat in his office chair. She couldn't let him leave. She needed to know. Following him, she pulled herself up to sit on his desk. He held his head up with both hands. His shoulders released tension. "Remember sophomore year when I went on the 'summer abroad' trip and couldn't talk online?"

She listened. "Yeah?"

Fury entered his eyes fast. His body stiffened. "I wasn't studying. She had me kidnapped for the insurance money."

Her body ached for him. She could hold off telling him about her mother for now, giving him space. She told him, "You're safe, here with me now. But I'm confused."

Pulling his head back, he held her hand. "You're not like her, Pen. She's controlling and owed these people money for investing. I was insured. She paid them off with the insurance money, ensuring everyone lined their pockets on Dad's dime and getting her favors that she needed to ensure she owned everything Dad touched."

He rolled his chair over to his laptop on his desk, his nostrils flaring. "I'm going to shut Mueller down now. I want you to leave and not be part of this."

Standing up from the desk, she crossed her arms. "I'm not going anywhere. I trust you, and I have to explain about my mother."

Opening up a program, he focused on his laptop. "Fine. Later. In the next few days, if something happens in the middle of the night, get in that room and wait it out."

Her heart plummeted and her hands went clammy. "You're trying to scare me now."

He gazed away from his work and stared at her. "Look at me, Penny. You shouldn't stay here."

Part of her agreed. She should leave. "But you're the one in danger. You've got a black eye, some nasty bruises, and a cracked rib."

His arms flailed. "Let me ask a question. Would your mother kill you?"

She couldn't breathe. She had to tell him the truth. "No, but she'd have no qualms about using me to get what she wants—"

He gave her a slow, secret smile that stopped her short. When silence clung in the air, he drew his lips in thoughtfully. "It's why I have a hard time saying no to you. You understand."

She forced a demure smile on her face. She'd tell him about her mother once he typed out whatever he needed to on his computer. "So, what are you going to do exactly?"

Lines of concentration embedded in his brow as he went back to work. "Buy out her connection with Mueller Enterprises. I'm hoping this means the rats flee the ship, and my parents can take the money they get and retire."

She eyed him thoughtfully. "You're not looking to keep any of those mob characters around, are you?."

Without looking at her, he kept his head down. "You shouldn't be here. I don't deserve someone like you."

"I'm going to make dinner. Do the right thing, Dimples."

# Chapter 33

She took the glass baking pan out of the oven, noticing her breaded chicken shone a perfect dark brown color. She pushed into cleaning up the mess, hoping to ease the panic attacks. With an oven mitt, she put the pan on the counter top before heading back to her pot with the potatoes.

The slamming of Jay's door told her enough. Her heart palpitations left her fighting off faintness, but she'd muddle through. She was checking on the green peas and carrots when his arm went around her waist.

Wiping her brow with her hand, she stifled her sigh at his nearness. Stepping backward, he put his hands in her back pocket and asked, "How did it go?"

Her nerve endings tingled.

"I bought the company. I have a favor to ask you."

Smiling, she relaxed her shoulders. She could help him. "What?"

"I need you to find all the mechanical design problems in the latest project. I need to tell investors the plans were structurally unsound, and it's why I'm canceling everything."

The fluttering in her stomach stopped. "You were looking to hire someone with my skills. I'll take the job if you're still offering."

"It's been yours all along."

He stepped into her bubble and froze when his lips met hers. The kiss was a smoldering heat that stole her words. The warmth of his arm was so strong, so deliciously safe. Closing her eyes, she let a small shiver pulse through her. Putting her hands on his waist melted her insides even more, but she pushed back. "We have to talk, Dimples."

"Penny, you're the one person who doesn't run. I can't fight it anymore, because I am falling in love with you, more every day."

Jerking away, she almost fell. Tears formed while she turned to click off the oven. "Vegetables are done. And we have to talk. You can't love me. You shouldn't."

She turned, falling into his arms, where she fit into his chest. He rocked her, kissing the top of her forehead. "We can talk. You did mention something about your mother. I'll set the table with the plates and serve the chicken."

In unison they finished and put everything into bowls, she buying precious moments where she didn't have to tell him.

"Smells delicious, Pen. Thank you."

Sitting across from him, she put the last plate of food down and unfolded her napkin. Finally she glanced up to see the curiosity in his eyes. Tapping her foot on the ground, she opened her mouth. "When will everyone know what happened?"

"Tomorrow, when they go to work. A few people will know tonight, but Mom will know tomorrow. Dad won't tell her bad news. He's afraid of her."

His confidence only added to her legs jittering. "I'm scared right now to say what I need to say."

"Just spit it out. I told you about my mother."

Putting her hand on her leg to stop the bouncing, she met his eyes. She had to tell him. Her chest tightened before she spoke. "Yours and mine are similar in their controlling behaviors, but mine is far more single-minded."

"What do you mean?"

Swallowing didn't stop her neck from getting unbelievably hot. Looking down, she willed herself to speak. "She didn't just steal your tablet, Jay. I was heartbroken and sick that day."

"What happened?"

Her chin trembled when she stared up, seeing his clear blue eyes. "She had broken in before." She pushed her head back, the tears flowing now. "She drugged me. She drugged you. She switched out the condoms. She tried so hard to turn me into her."

He stood up and moved his chair next to her. "What? I'm not following."

Coughing, she tried to stop crying. It didn't work. Sucking in her cheeks didn't work either, because tears wet her cheeks. "I studied mechanical engineering to never be her."

Offering her a hug, he whispered, "I know, Sexiness. You're a good person."

_This can't be happening_. Pressing her lips together, she continued. "No. I decided we could have sex and I wouldn't expect more. I let you buy dinner. I wore that fancy dress to impress you, and I wanted to come back here and steal those pretty shoes you bought me before I disappeared."

His knees touched hers. "I don't want your shoes. Penny, you're the most stable person I know. Explain what happened. Let me help fix this mess."

Her hands curled around her sides when he put his hand on her lap to hold her. "She drugged us. At this moment, I could be pregnant because she came in here and switched your vitamins for a sexual-enhancement drugs."

His brow curled. "Pen, I wore a condom."

She cleared her throat and stuttered, "Made...of lamb...skin...with holes...she made."

Her breathing became heavy, but she'd told him.

"What?"

Didn't he understand? She swallowed again while her head became hot. "And she pumped my pills full of hormones to ensure I had lots of eggs to fertilize. If she gets her wish, we could be having quintuplets in nine months."

His mouth fell open, but he said nothing.

Penny buried her head in her hands. She needed to finish this. He needed to know everything. "I was at a gas station in Jupiter when Sandy called me about you. I had finally stopped crying, but I wanted to keep on driving and never come back here."

Brushing her arm in kindness, he asked gently, "You came back because of me?"

. "Yeah. And mom told me she took all the money in my account. Every last dime. I have nothing left."

He nodded at her. "Did you want to leave me? I'll give you whatever you want."

Her shoulders curled into her body and her nose ran. The napkin didn't clean up her face, and nausea hit her hard. Closing her eyes, she told him, "At that moment it would have been easier to never tell you. I'm so ashamed, as hard as I've worked against it, and in the end I've become her.""

With a deep sigh, he met her gaze. "You are not making any sense. You're not her. First of all, you told me, which is more than she'd have done—"

"Don't. I need a job and to pay my own way, Jay. I will work for you and find every detail in the plans for you, and I'll stay here, if you'll have me."

He nodded. "Of course."

Tightening her fists, she uncurled her arms to her side. "But don't tell me you love me. You can't. We're a huge lie."

He reached to take her hand, but she stayed rigid. "Pen, don't hold yourself to her standard."

Standing up, she put her chin in the air and placed her napkin on the table. "I'm not hungry anymore. I'm going to bed now."

# Chapter 34

After her shower she couldn't get warm. She listened to Jay put the dishes away and she felt frigid. The freezing cold inside her didn't go away when she put her hand on the glass window and sensed the heat from outside

What if someone came here in the middle of the night?

Her glance swept across her room, looking for anything that might move.

Jay opened a bottle. She heard the clink.

Quickly she changed into her flannel pajama bottoms and tank top and raced out.

Spotting him with a beer sitting on the couch without a shirt made her mouth drop open. "What are you doing?"

Stretching his arms on the back of the sofa, he gave her a half-smile. "Settling down, Pen. I need to relax."

Stepping ahead, her legs wobbled a little, but she drew closer to him. Running her hands down her legs, she gave him a hesitant smile. "I'm scared."

He patted the seat behind him, and his clear eyes made her heart lurch for an entirely different reason. He kept his voice low. "I don't like playing 'what if' games in my head. In a few days everything will work itself out. I still think you should go."

She nodded, eying the seat, though she remained standing. "No, I'll find what you need, and even if you put me up in a hotel somewhere, I'll still be scared and humiliated. It's better if I stay."

He sipped his beer then leaned forward. "I can't tell you no, even though I should."

Brushing her pajama pants before she sat down next to him, she inched closer, taking his beer from his hands and taking a small a sip. "My mouth was dry."

His stare at her lips made her body hum for attention. Looking down, she listened to her breathing when he told her, "Pen, I won't let anything happen to you. Not because of my mother."

Sighing, she scooted closer again and admitted, "I'd lean my head on your shoulder, but that cracked rib of yours—"

His head relaxed against the back of the couch when he turned to stare at her eyes. "Then sleep next to me."

She gulped, her entire body electrified, before she whispered her answer. "You know I can't have sex with you right now. I'm super-fertile."

His dimples widened before he let out a laugh. "Get your mind off my body. It will be easier to keep you safe."

She laughed with him, letting her head fall back on the couch. His dimples kept her gaze when he stood up holding her hand. He let her go while her hand traced his calf muscle He leaned down, picked up her hand, kissed it, and tugged to get her to follow.

Taking in a deep breath, she smelled his warm skin, and finally she felt warm. She followed him into his room and headed straight for the bed when he opened the door for her.

He closed the door, and his eyes watched her before he walked away, heading into his bathroom to shower. Her eyes closed and relaxed.

Sighing, she felt the mattress sway when he lay down next to her. Without opening her eyes, she snuggled up next to him.

He chuckled, fixing his pillow. "Your lack of grace is another honest part of you."

Rolling her head up, she whispered, "I'm tired of talking now. I'm out of words now."

He hugged her closer and fixed the blanket on them both. "Night, then. There are a few more things, but time will settle it."

Her lips parted and she knew she needed this stillness. She kept her eyes closed and drifted off.

The smell of coffee invaded her nostrils. Stretching, she lay in an empty bed, though his side still had some of his warmness. Twisting into it, she smelled his sheets and smiled. Keeping her eyes closed, she stayed still, even when she heard his footsteps come back into the bedroom.

Putting his hand on her shoulder, he whispered, "I made you coffee."

Without opening her eyes, she nodded. "I smell it."

He sat on the bed and the sheets rolled away. Opening her eyes, she blinked. He had a cup in his hand. Reaching out, she sat up on her knees. He handed it over, mussing up her hair. "Sexiness, you did tell me you'd go to work and find the files today."

Groaning, she nodded while using two hands to hold the cup. "What time is it?"

He moved one foot on the bed while keeping the other on the ground. "Seven. I called the office and you're all set to go in."

Sipping her coffee made her senses awake. With a half-smile, she asked, "Aren't you going?"

He sat back up and paced to the window. She followed him with her gaze while she sat cross-legged. "No. I'm working here this morning. I'll leak the news of my takeover bid and announce a press conference for tonight at five. I'll need whatever you can find before then."

Tilting her head, she tried to understand. "Will you be okay by yourself? You shouldn't be alone."

He nodded to the window, not to her, before he came back to stand at the bed. "I'll be fine. It's just business from now on, and no more mercy for anyone."

She stood up next to him, swaying a little on her feet before asking in a soft voice, "Even me?"

Putting his hands on her hips to steady her, he lifted her chin to meet her gaze. "Keeping you safe is my goal now, too. I need you too much."

Her lips opened, half expecting a kiss before she closed her mouth. Shaking her head, she stepped back. "I'll get dressed. I won't let you down, Dimples."

"You never could."

Without turning around, she stopped and her feet curled up. She wished she believed that. Holding her coffee in her hand, she stared down at it, promising to do her best.

Getting dressed, putting the coffee cup in the dishwasher, and picking up her bag, her mind sharpened on Jay. She wished she never had to let him down. He deserved better. She forced herself to focus on her car, the road, parking, but Jay's fierce promise to keep her safe made her yearn for the impossible.

Adjusting her clothes, she straightened up and headed inside the high-rise. Jay's work. Penelope Financial. A silly grin caught hold, thinking about that. Smiling, with a bounce to her step, she opened the office door, where everyone stopped and stared at her. Disappearing into the ground didn't happen like she imagined. Raising her chin just a notch, she nodded, remembering Jay had hired her. With more assured steps, she continued going farther inside. At the first desk, she told the receptionist, "I'm Penelope Knightheart. I'm here to work on something."

The woman stood up, stiff and shaking. "I'll show you to your office, ma'am."

Raising her eyebrow at the woman's nervousness, Penny offered a tentative smile. "Don't call me 'ma'am.' We're the same age."

The woman shook her head with a glued-on smile full of nerves. Penny gave her an understanding nod until she told her, "Your boyfriend pays me and named the company after you. We're not in the same league."

Her brows shot up momentarily right before she laughed. How silly. Reaching out her hand, she asked, "What's your name?"

"Adena," the woman answered, taking the offered handshake.

A smile returned to her. "Hi, look, I'm Penny. I'm not in any league, but I am here on a mission for Jay. Where can I get the plans I'm supposed to check?"

"I'll get them for you now."

Penny stared in her office. She'd talk to Jay about it later, but the task at hand was to find flaws in the design. Adena brought the plans in. After unwrapping the designs, Penny opened her laptop and went into concentration mode.

A few hours later, her stomach grumbled. Dropping the pencil in her hand, she hit save on the computer. The smile on her face wavered while her mouth watered for food. Fourteen flaws already and only two-thirds of the way done. Her stomach churned again. Sustenance would revive her work ethic.

Getting up, she stretched her cramped muscles, prayed this was a period sign, then reached for her bag. Closing her eyes, she giggled at her foolishness. No lunch bag. She'd had enough pizza for the next month, possibly forever. She only lived ten minutes away.

After closing her office door, she locked up, then walked out. Fewer stares at her this time. Everyone focused on their jobs. As she raced to the elevator, her heels clicked on the marble floors. Food, say hello to Jay, go back to work...the plan made sense.

The drive to her place by the water while the sun streamed in revived her spirits. Her muscles weren't tense anymore. Dimples would be upstairs too, making her smile brighter. The doorman nodded at her as she pulled into her spot. She waved back, hitting the button for the elevator while humming her favorite new song. Today she helped that man waiting upstairs for her.

When the elevator door opened, her lightheartedness dropped like an anchor in her stomach. Jay's horrified eyes stared at her from his seat near the entrance before his jaw dropped. She stepped off the elevator awkwardly. What was she supposed to say?

He ran his hands through his thick head of hair. "You're supposed to be at work."

Was she overheated from the humidity? She swallowed. "I forgot my lunch."

He ran his hand down to his mouth, revealing a harder grimace before he took her hand, dragging her into his office. "Did something happen? What are you showing me?"

"I can't explain right now." Keeping a firm grip on her hand, he opened the safe room under the stairs and shoved her inside.

Twisting around, she felt the door slam in her face. Shuffling back, she stared at the door. Her stomach fluttered before she stumbled in the darkness. Cursing under her breath, she searched the wall until she found a light switch.

Kicking the door, she yelled at him, but he couldn't hear. A sudden coldness hit her hard again. Her gaze darted around the room until she found a remote for the monitor. Fumbling to turn it on, she hit the button. Backing into the wall, she screamed. Three men with guns stepped off the elevator while Jay walked over to greet the one in the middle. Shallow, quick gasps did not stop her entire body from tensing.

# Chapter 35

She stepped back, her shaking hand going to her forehead. The door didn't open. She pushed harder until her muscles hurt. Backing herself into the wall, she closed her eyes. Why would Jay put her in here? To protect her?

She tried to force herself to breathe in between gasps of air. Her gaze focused on the monitors. What was happening out there? Leaving the wall, she fumbled to reach out for the remote, almost falling. Her heart thumped madly. Scratching her neck, she prayed Jay was fine, but why would he lock her in? Picking up the remote, she almost stumbled over the chair in front of her before she hit the button. Her eyes flew up to the monitors.

She had to see what happened, mumbling to herself, "Jay has to be okay."

Blinking, she swallowed harder, needing answers, while she stood watching him on the screen walking back toward the elevators. The light for visitors came on and she peered closer, needing to see.

Jay brushed his pants and squared his shoulders when a man flanked by two more came into the apartment. Her hand went to her mouth to stifle a scream as she frantically searched for her bag. Tripping over her own feet, she found it on the floor and reached for her phone.

"No service" flashed when she picked it up.

Dropping it, she paced while she listened.

The man in charge of the other two motioned for what must be his bodyguards to stand near the elevator. Rocking on her feet, she heard the menace in his voice. "Mr. Marshall, you bought out my business interests."

Jay's parents. She almost tripped again. Gripping the chair, she sat down, listening to Jay answer. "I bought out my parents. It's time they retire. Would you like to sit down?"

The man offered his hand to shake, which Jay took. "Come in. Sit."

Jay led the man to the dining room table and took his usual chair. The man smiled, pulled out a gun, and laid it down without pointing it. She couldn't breathe. Not enough air went to her lungs and she became lightheaded. Jay played with his ear, but leaned closer.

The man put his hands in his lap. "Yes. I came to discuss terms. Do you expect to work with me the same as your parents?"

She froze and jerked her head back. Jay's blue eyes shone clear when he answered, "No. I don't. I'm shutting down all their projects due to mechanical faults."

Her skin tingled, though the man captured her attention when he asked, "Which leaves me...?"

Nodding, Jay crossed his legs. "Richer than you were before you threw in with my parents. I doubled your money when the deal was struck to honor your history with my parents."

The mean leaned back in the chair. "Is this because your mother had us kidnap you a few years back? It was just business, and now we're willing to negotiate with you."

Jay shook his head, and Penny had a flicker of a smile on her face. "It is business for me. And good business to force my parents into retirement, taking over all their vested interests. For your generosity to my family, for the past, and to end any future business dealings we might have, I let you in my house to discuss what gift I can give you to cement the deal."

The man raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Your mother owned a factory in Mexico. Ensure I get controlling interest, and we'll never bother you again."

Jay's dimples appeared and Penny's smile brightened. "This includes never contacting me or either of my parents again. Ever.?"

Yes. He was doing the right thing.

The man nodded. "If that is a condition."

Jay's piercing eyes and voice froze her. "It is."

The man stood up, offering his hand. "Then you win. I will not answer if your mother calls."

Jay shook it and clapped the man on the back. "We have a deal, then."

Covering her mouth, Penny wrinkled her nose.

The man picked up his gun and put it in his holster while following Jay. "I told your mother kidnapping you was a mistake. She didn't listen to me."

Jay scoffed before he shook his head. "She doesn't listen to anyone. I'll have the documents sent over this afternoon."

The man motioned for his men to go with him. "Take care, Mr. Marshall."

Jay stood, smiling, watching the elevator door close. The tightness in Penny's stomach gave way to a shaky laugh of her own. Her eyes rolled up and a smile stayed on her lips.

He had done the right thing.

His hands raced through his hair and he stepped closer to her inside their apartment. Penny stared at him, fumbled backward, and dropped the remote. He stood still until she caught herself. She sighed, then he turned on his heels and marched toward his office, and her heart soared. Heat from inside her warmed her hands. She took a deep breath, then she ran to the door to follow him inside, again, but the blasted door didn't budge.

"Pen." She gazed back to the monitor looking into his office, as he called through the speaker, "Go to the food pantry. Under the canned spaghetti, you'll find the key."

She looked all around the room and spotted the pantry. She reached inside the drawer, and her hands clenched a set of keys. She held on to the metal handle for a second, then removed her keys. Then she spun around on her heels and unlocked the door.

She ran into his arms and drew him into a hug. He kept her close and rocked her. Her heart raced and she hugged him back. Without saying anything, she listened to him breathe deeper. Her own pulse raced, and her heart banged in her chest.

He squeezed her tight against his chest again. "I didn't want you here for this."

Nodding, she stepped away a little, though she kept his hand in hers. "Clearly."

His eyes closed when he shook his head. "I'm sorry."

Reaching her hand up this face, she traced his chin, landing on his cheek, while she smiled. "You didn't go into business with them."

He rubbed his cheek on her hand, whispering, "I couldn't, Sexiness."

Her heart caught in her throat and her heels lifted her closer to his face. "Why?"

Taking her hand off his face, he kissed the palm before letting her hand go. "Because you told me not to."

Curling her hand to her side, she met his eyes and hesitated. She'd never be her mother. She couldn't do it to him. "Jay, I'm proud of you, but—"

He nodded and stepped back. "Penny, I need those plans you were working on done and ready to announce at five."

Her breathing normalized. She'd help him. He deserved to have it all. She relaxed her shoulders and her feet itched to go. "Okay. I've found some serious issues already. I'll go back to work and send everything via email before I come home."

Turning away from her, he stared out the window. "That will be amazing. I have to finish this publicly, but please be home in time for dinner. My mother will likely pay us a visit, and I don't want to see her."

"I'll be here."

Walking away from him and heading to the elevator did not stop her heart from racing. And so what that her feet bounced and she realized with a start she hadn't had a bite of lunch She'd get him those files. He'd win against his controlling mother. One of them had to.

# Chapter 36

When she hit the send button an hour before the five o'clock due date, she clutched her stomach. She needed food. She'd be no good standing beside Jay if she fainted at his feet from hunger. Stretching her legs, she stood up and took one more look around her office for the day. Working here full-time would be fun. Hugging herself, she smiled and glanced around.

A maintenance man stopped in front of her glass door and added something to the empty nameplate. After packing her bag, she walked out, eying what he did.

"Penelope Knightheart." Her name on its very own doorplate. Stifling a giggle, she stepped out. Food before fireworks blew up within the Marshall family.

Her shoulders stayed back, and she felt taller than she had in a while. She had helped him. She read the plans and marked notes everywhere that would need further study. All her work mattered today, and a feeling of satisfaction engulfed her.

Going home would be amazing, and being with Jay after his mother came over. She'd keep him calm afterwards.

Pulling her keys out of her bag, she left the elevator and aimed toward her car. Her jaw dropped and she blinked. Clutching her bag to her like a piece of armor, Penny put one foot in front of the other. Her mother didn't need to be addressed. Keeping her head up, she'd pretend not to see her.

Geneva stepped in front of her. "Penelope, we need to talk."

Ignoring her never worked anyhow. Biting her lip, she asked, "Mom, what are you doing here?"

"Sweetheart." Mom's sweet voice. Penny's bottom lip stuck out. She called that her vulture voice, about to pounce on her prey. "Checking on you and your progress."

Pushing away, Penny yelled, "I am not you. I am not a predator out hunting for meat."

"Men are the predators. We pretend to be victims. You must remember some of what I taught you."

Her vision clouded, and her ears pounded. "Go away now. I won't use Jay."

Her mother petted her hair and met her eyes. "You stayed with him. I almost gave up hope on you, but you're making me so proud."

Proud? She could have showed up at her college graduation to support her then, not when she landed a man. Her pulse wouldn't die down while she clenched her hands. "I had no one else."

Letting out a laugh, her mother smiled at her. "You chose to be with him and didn't run off. In time, you'll see my actions were justified."

"Mom, drop it." She held back the increasing rage, though she wanted to fight her. "Jay's not the issue."

Nodding, her mother smiled. "No. He's the guy I've been searching for all my life. Now he's in your life. Everything I worked toward, at least my daughter gets. It's good. Better that I hoped for you when you stuck with that poor, jobless boy. Now you're home and with a guy richer than everyone else. I'm not going to let you walk away from every desire you might ever have."

Pushing away from her mother, she stared at the street. "Stop it. I want a guy who loves me for who I am, Mom. I'm not you, and Jay's a good guy who deserves so much more."

Her mother's voice echoed behind her head, saying, "He's good enough to be used for his money." Twisting around to square off, her mother finished. "He has enough. He won't miss it, and he gets you out of the deal."

Pulling her keys out of her bag, Penny cracked her knuckles before opening her car door. "Get away from me and my life. I won't use Jay. Not to make you proud, not for anything. All he's ever done is look out for me, which is more than I can say for you. I have to go because I have his back and I won't let him down."

Her mother called out, "Don't screw up our dream."

Throwing her purse in the passenger seat, she twisted around, while her skin stayed molten hot. "I am not you. I will not use him for a dime. You will not get any money out of us."

"Us?"

Curling her hand into a fist, she hopped into the Jeep, calling out, "Leave me alone, Mom. Don't call me. As far as I'm concerned, we're done."

"All I wanted was for you to find happiness, sweetheart."

Penny closed her eyes as the door closed. All her life she hoped to make that woman proud. But she never did. Her mother couldn't love anyone, and she'd never be her. Jay deserved someone so much better. He deserved love.

Five minutes later, she pulled into a spot. Her mother usually made her upset, but now she felt strangely calm. Gulping, she tried to reason with herself. Her mother used people. She wasn't using Jay. Opening her door to get out, she reminded herself she'd helped him today. She smiled, swinging her legs out of the vehicle. She loved him too much to ever use him.

She fell out of her Jeep. Her knees and palms of her hands pushed on the ground as her bag scattered its contents beside her.

She loved him?

Sitting down, she couldn't move or close her open jaw.

Nervous laughter escaped from her throat while her mind repeated the word "love." She covered her face with her hands, the laughter turning to giggles. She loved that man.

A car squealed past her in the parking spot. She dusted herself off and picked up the contents of her bag. She kicked off her shoes. She'd carry them because running would be good. Picking up everything, she almost tripped when another car zoomed past her. Steadying her feet, she first held off, then ran into the lobby, shouting out to the doorman, "Hello," and racing into the elevator, heels squealing on the marble floor while she slid to push the button.

She jumped up and down on her toes. She had to tell him.

The ding of the doors opening, and she bounced in before a neighbor had a chance to get off. She called out while jamming her card in the reader for her floor, "Sorry."

She'd been a fool. Loving Jay had always been there. She just hadn't seen it.

When the doors opened, he called out from his office, "Penny, you're late. I was getting worried."

Dropping her shoes in the living area, she ran to open his door. He fixed his tie. "Do I look okay for the statement?"

She stepped closer, smiling while she stared at him. Her heart hammered in her chest. "I have to talk to you."

"Get dressed in a nice..." His eyes fell to her knees. "You fell. Are you okay?"

Coming over, he put his arm on hers. He stared into her eyes. The blueness and steadiness of his character was just one reason out of so many. "Jay—"

The elevator door opened and she heard footsteps behind her. Jay kissed her forehead. "Mom's here. I'm glad you're okay."

He stepped away from her. She stared after him. He fixed the button on his wrist while nodding, gearing up for a confrontation.

She had to catch her breath and fight the overall desire to run into his arms. Going into the living room, she stood back and watched him speak to his parents. She'd tell him after. When they were alone. She lowered her gaze, intending to wash the dirt off her hands.

Tiptoeing through the living room, she hoped to make it to her room to change, but his mother called out, "You are ruining your family for the daughter of a whore."

Jay stepped in front of his mother, firmly telling her, "Don't talk about Penny, Mother. She has nothing to do with what we're talking about."

His mother shook with cold fury. Her hands clenched while she snapped, "She has everything to do with it. She ruined you."

Gulping, Penny stepped beside Jay. He took her hand while she told both of his parents, "I didn't ruin Jay. He's a man, all on his own."

Keeping her hand in his, he added, "Thanks. Penny is the best woman I've ever known. Now apologize to her, or you won't even get that money."

His mother wrinkled her nose and sarcastically repeated, "I'm sorry."

Jay's hand squeezed Penny's before he stepped forward. "Try again, Mother. This time, say it like you mean it."

"Say it," his father pleaded. "I'm okay with retiring."

His mother's nostrils flared at her husband before she stepped back. Putting her hands to her sides, she nodded. "Fine. I am sorry, Penelope. Your mother tried to sleep with my husband, and I'm a bitter woman who doesn't forgive easily."

Penny put her free arm around her waist, rocked on both feet, then opened her mouth. "Yet you used my mother to steal from our home."

Jay smiled at her. She'd stay at his side. He had to know that.

His mother rolled her eyes. "It's not your home for long, girl. Not when John Jay finds out how you tried to use him for his cash."

"I didn't. I wouldn't." She let go of his hand, taking his arm to get closer.

"I have video."

She dropped her hand while her eyes widened. "What?"

Jay's mother gave her a smirk and a nod. Then she found a tablet from inside her red designer bag. Finally she hit play.

Penny had no idea how that could be. She needed to tell him she loved him without everything being spoiled. Her mouth went dry.

Penny leaned in closer to watch. Her body chilled, recognizing her conversation from ten minutes ago where her mother petted her hair. _"You stayed with him. I almost gave up hope on you, but you're making me so proud."_

Penny clenched her hands. _"I had no one else."_

Laughing _. "You chose to be with him and didn't run off. You'll see my actions were justified with time."_

_"Mom, drop it. Jay's not the issue."_

His mother clicked off her tablet and gave them a triumphant smirk. "She's using you, son. She didn't deny it in the video."

Penny was beyond rage. Dropping her head, she nodded. "Yes, I did. You cut that part. You chose half a second of a long fight we had. I would never use Jay. He's the best man I've ever met, and my best friend."

He stepped back. He deserved to hear her say she loved him without the audience. Gulping, she prayed he gave her a chance. Keeping her hands to her side, she shook her head. "Jay, I wouldn't do anything against you. I'm on your side."

He put his hand on her back as he told her, "Don't go white on me, Penny. I know you have my back."

Her spirits soared while a slow smile grew on her face.

Jay kept her closer while he shook his head. "Mom, I don't know what game this is, but you're not getting your companies back."

Standing right in front of them, his mother said, "I want my son back, not the company. Don't you see she's lying? She's taking drugs to get pregnant."

Jay opened his mouth, answering fast. "'Cause I want children."

She dropped her mouth and turned to look him in the eye. "Don't lie to her for us."

His clear blue eyes met her gaze. "It's true, though. It's not a lie. I don't care about her mother's plot, and I do want children one day. Penny would be an amazing mother. Much better than either model we've ever had."

His mother's voice turned softer. Glancing over, they both saw her put her hand on her mouth while tears formed in her eyes. "Jay, honey, I shouldn't have put you in jail for cash. It was wrong and your father had no part in it."

Jay's voice stayed firm. "He can't say no to you. Now I want you both to leave. I have a press statement to make."

His mother stepped up. "We'll go with you."

He shook his head and stepped back. "No. We're done here."

Jay put his arms around Penny and drew her into a hug. Neither of them said anything, while they waited for his father to show initiative and drag his mother out. When the elevator doors closed, he whispered, "I'm sorry about her."

Leaning her shoulders into him, she relaxed. "Don't. It's not your fault."

After hugging her, he let her go. "I have to go make the statement downstairs. We have two minutes left. It's right outside our building and won't take long."

Nodding, she turned around, not wanting to put her hand on his face until she washed. "I'd do anything for you."

Falling out of her car was stupid, but she had no time for criticizing today. Running to her room at full throttle, she threw her clothes on the floor and washed her hands and knees. In her bra and panties she threw open her closet and found a black dress.

Turning, she saw him staring at her through the open door. His eyes had grown.

Laughing, she put her hand on her heart. "After the press conference, Dimples. I don't want to rush when we have all night to celebrate."

His dimples grew on his cheeks, and her pulse raced. "Celebrate? Sounds good. Let's go." After throwing her dress over her head, she met his eyes again. Fishing out her silver shoes, she sat on the bed while telling him, "Though we're going to have to work at you being less controlling."

Crossing his arms, he said, "I'm not controlling."

With a smile on her face, she rolled her eyes. "You paid my student loans off without talking to me."

"I did it to free you." He stepped closer to her.

She took his hand and helped herself stand up. "You did it to ensure I'm indebted to you."

She walked out of her room. She knew he'd stop her. He caught her when she tried to pass and she slipped into his arms. Squeezing her, he told her, "I do love you, Pen. I shouldn't. Just wish you loved me too."

"I do, though. I love you very much."

He didn't move, just stared at her with his mouth open. Sighing, she took his hand, leading him through the living room and to the elevator. After she hit the button, he asked her, "What?"

The door rang and she fixed his tie while walking in with him. She stood on her tiptoes to whisper, "Make that speech, Dimples."

* * *

She pushed him out the door, and through the lobby where three corporate press people with cameras waited. He fumbled through his speech about mergers and structural damage, but his eyes kept coming back to her, like he didn't believe her. She smiled back.

The fluttering in her stomach and pride she felt for him grew while he talked. Jay had her heart and soul. He had it in high school and throughout college. Despite having a girlfriend, he had spoken to her weekly. She'd been stupid and almost left him because of her mother, but now she understood. The world was brighter, and she was safe in his arms and in his life.

He coughed at the end of his speech, jarring her back to the present. He stepped back, took her hand, and waved goodbye to the business insiders. Inside the door, he drew her into him. "Say it again, Sexiness."

She raised her eyebrows to tease him. "We're going to have to work on your control issues, Dimples."

"Not what I wanted to hear." His cheeks turned red while he hugged her. "But to be entirely honest, I bought your Jeep, and you're sending me the money, not some financial institution."

She froze, then chastised herself. She should have guessed that. Without moving a muscle, she gulped, then answered, "You have to stop doing that."

"You have to be open, Pen." With his hands on her back, he stepped closer. "Don't hate me because I have money."

"I can't ever hate you. And I will be more accepting." She nodded, then relaxed while putting her hands on his hips. "I don't have a choice, because I love you."

Meeting her gaze, he shook his head. "Too many words. I just want three in the one sentence, without any conditions, Penny. I hate conditions."

He was right. Giving him a yearning look, she told him, "I love you."

"It's about time." He kissed her forehead while hugging her, leading her to the elevator.

Reaching behind her, she pushed the button while meeting his gaze. "Did you mean what you said about me being an amazing mother and wife?"

The elevator opened and he led her inside while keeping her body against him. Backing up into the wall, he had a low, sexy whisper. "Every word, Sexiness. I love you, and I said it first."

He stepped away to run his card through to get to their floor. Before her skin had a second to miss him, the electric storm grew from his touch. His hand traced her leg, then he leaned down to capture her mouth. She opened her mouth to tell him, "You beat me one time. Don't let it get to your head, Dimples."

"Kiss me," he ordered, and her lips ached for him. He was so close.

The bell rang and they stopped moving.

Without tasting her mouth, he stepped back, but took her hand. "Get out of the elevator. What I am going to do to you doesn't need an audience."

"Well we don't have a lot of time. I'm pretty sure my period will be here tomorrow."

"Good, but I want you even if you have my quintuplets or just one ten years from now."

"We'll talk about that in the future."

"Good because I want you, right now."

Her body trembled. When she followed orders, he reached down, pulling her dress off her body, throwing it on the floor. She pushed her head up, and played with his hair until he claimed what she wanted. His kiss set her on fire, and she'd never have enough.

When his lips descended on hers, the rest of the world disappeared.

Love mattered far more.

_Thank you for reading_. I hope you loved Penny and Jay's romance. The next story is Sandra and Wyatt's reunion romance in Favorite Mistake.

_Or_ you can go back and read about the people Roxy's family and what happens to her next when you start the Tempting series with Tempting Gabe.

And to find out about new books, sign up for my newsletter: <https://victoriapinder.com>

# Also by Victoria Pinder

Returning for Valentine's (FREE if you go to my website)

**The House of Morgan**

Secret Crush

Secret Baby

Secret Bet

Secret Wish

Secret Dad

Secret Heir

Secret Tryst

Secret Date

Secret Romeo

Secret Caress

Secret Match

Secret Bridesmaid

Secret Admirer

Secret Cowboy

Secret Mistress

The House of Morgan Boxed Set 1-3

The House of Morgan Boxed Set 4-6

The House of Morgan Boxed Set 7-9

The House of Morgan Boxed Set 10-12

The House of Morgan Boxed Set 13-15

**Princes of Avce**

Forbidden Crown

Forbidden Prince

Forbidden Royal

Forbidden Duke

Forbidden Earl

Forbidden Monsieur

Forbidden Marquis

Forbidden Count

Forbidden King

Forbidden Bastard

Forbidden Noble

Forbidden Lord

Princes of Avce 1-3

Princes of Avce 4-6

Princes of Avce 7-9

**The Hawke Fortune**

Tempting Gabe

Tempting James

Tempting Conner

Tempting Harry

Tempting Navid

Hawke Series

**Brothers in Revenge**

Irresistibly Lost

Irresistibly Found

Irresistibly Charming

Irresistibly Tough

Irresistibly Played

Irresistibly Rugged

Irresistibly Strong

Irresistibly Dashing

Irresistibly Boxed Set 3-5

Irresistibly Boxed Set 4-6

**A Frosted Game of Hearts**

Hidden Gabriel

Hidden Raphael

Hidden Michael

Hidden Dane

Hidden Rocco

Hidden Alphas Boxed Set

**The Marshall Family Saga**

Favorite Crush

Favorite Mistake

Favorite Sin

Favorite Scandal

**The Collins Brothers**

Chaperoning Paris

Borrowing the Doctor

Gerard

Liam

Eric

**Then if you also like**

**Science Fiction/Fantasy Romance**

**Hidden Dragon Series**

Call of the Dragon

Dawn of the Dragon

Escape of the Dragon (Coming Soon)

**The Queen Gene**

Whispers of a Throne

Storm of the Throne (coming soon)

**Earthseekers Mission**

Makeup May Change Your Life

The Zoastra Affair

**Ancient Greek Heroes**

Romancing Theseus

Mything the Throne

# About the Author

USA Today Bestselling Author, Victoria Pinder grew up in Irish Catholic Boston then moved to Miami. Eventually, found that writing is her passion. She always wrote stories to entertain herself. Her parents are practical minded people demanding a job, but when she sat down to see what she enjoyed doing, writing became obvious.

_Visit my website and download a free novel_

www.victoriapinder.com

victoria@victoriapinder.com

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