 
### Nothing but Trouble

By

Tory Richards

Copyright © 2014 Tory Richards

All Rights Reserved.

Published by Tory Richards

### Smashwords Edition

**Smashwords Edition, License Notes**

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Tory Richards: http://www.toryrichards.com

Email: tory.richards@yahoo.com

Author's note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

### Chapter 1

At six feet five inches, short women didn't appeal to Brent Howard in the least, so it was only natural his gaze zeroed in on five feet ten inch Sophie Adams the minute she walked into the crowded room. She was a stunning creature, cultivated and poised; her status of wealth and influence in society evident in not only her regal appearance but in her every move.

He couldn't help thinking the outdated newspaper clipping he'd seen of her earlier hadn't done her justice. The colorless picture hadn't revealed the healthy, rich satin of her honey-toned skin, or the way the auburn highlights in her hair, done in a casual yet elegant style away from her face, caught the light as she moved. Reminding him of an untamed wildfire begging to be tamed.

The evening gown she was wearing wasn't much more than a black sheath of shimmering satin, the halter style cut revealingly low in the front while falling in a graceful line all the way to her elegant ankles. It hugged her hourglass shape like a glove, revealing she couldn't possibly be wearing any undergarments. Three-inch heels put her over the six-foot mark, which meant she'd fit perfectly against him on the dance floor.

As she moved, the light captured the brilliance of the emeralds adorning her slender throat. Even Brent's inexperienced eyes could tell they weren't made of paste but were the real deal, and probably worth a small fortune. The fifteen-carat diamond on her finger alone could probably buy a small country and would certainly feed a lot of starving people. His mouth turned down with mild disgust. He didn't begrudge people who had money but flaunting it in pretentious ways had always turned him off. And Miss Adams had a way of flaunting it as though it was as natural to her as air was to breathe.

She turned slightly and Brent caught his breath, his gaze landing on the amount of flesh exposed by the daringly low cut back of her dress, which narrowed to the curve of her slim waist. Not only beautiful but an exhibitionist as well, another strike against her. Furthermore, with everything else he knew about Sophie Adams, a woman like her would never interest him.

Without being obvious, his gaze followed her as he waited for the right time to make his move. As she glided smoothly from one painting to another wearing that "look but don't touch" attitude, he was surprised to see she was alone. No one approached her, not even to say hello. However, he knew in spite of her social standing within the community, it was a well-known fact that Miss Adams insisted on her space and privacy. In fact, she demanded it. An unapproachable beauty one could only look at and admire from afar.

Brent knew that would be her downfall.

With a roguish grin his mother would say held a look of pure trouble, he reached for a glass of champagne off a tray as the hostess walked by, sipping at it without really tasting it. Pretending interest in some of the artwork and sculptures scattered throughout the spacious room, he continued to watch Sophie as he gradually made his way in her direction. The museum was crowded with black ties, suits and evening gowns as only the wealthiest had turned out for the grand opening of the Calabay Cove Art Museum.

Photographers were many, frenziedly snapping pictures of the rich and famous. He scanned the room, taking note of the security guards stationed about, who were also dressed to the hilt in an effort to blend in and not alarm the public in case they might be needed. Strictly as a precaution, the owners of the museum weren't taking any chances with the millions of dollars worth of art they had on hand. Brent wondered if it had occurred to anyone that there was more there then just artwork needing protection. His gaze automatically searched out Sophie, and froze.

The lady was looking directly at him.

* * * *

An uneasy feeling enveloped Sophie as she unhurriedly made her way around the room, not for the first time peering over her shoulder as though expecting to see someone there. Not paranoid by nature, she was certain someone was following her, and watching her. It wouldn't be the first time in her twenty-eight years. As the daughter of a senator, she'd grown up in the spotlight, accustomed to being followed by reporters, and at times, bodyguards. However, it had grown worse since her engagement to millionaire Jonathan Lord had been made public. An engagement she would have kept private had it not been for his colossal ego.

Pausing, she examined an oil painting that made her immediately think of confetti. Splashes of bright color that, to her way of thinking, any child of five could have done without much effort. The outrageous price tag of four thousand dollars on it caused her to shake her head with disbelief, until she remembered where she was. And who might be watching. There were photographers about. If one of them managed to snap a picture of her at the wrong moment, that definitely would not be the kind of reaction Jonathan would expect to see on the front page in the morning paper. Furthermore, when he was displeased about something, he let it be known. Keeping up appearances was very important to him, ranking right up there with landing a wealthy senator's daughter.

Sophie had learned early on he tended to look at the smallest infraction as an embarrassment and personal attack on him. Even going so far as accusing her of going out of her way to embarrass him in public once, when all she'd done was show up after their engagement announcement not wearing the much-publicized ring. Without being obvious, she cast a glance down at the cold, meaningless stone, hating what it represented. A smile designed to hide her true feelings turned the corners of her mouth up but did nothing to diminish the sadness in her heart when she thought about her situation.

Forcing herself to move on, she ignored the prickling sensation at the back of her neck, resisting the impulse to look behind her a second time. Her imagination was working overtime, that was all. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, reaching for a glass of sparkling champagne. She didn't drink but maybe a small sip would soothe her nerves. Glancing up as she put her lips to the rim of the glass, she noticed him.

She froze; the man's dark, compelling presence all but took her breath away. More handsome than any man had a right to be, he stood well above any other in the room. He didn't look like the black suit and tie type, yet it fit his broad-shouldered frame nicely, as though tailored specifically for him. He carried himself with ease, revealing a boredom she was used to seeing on the men who moved in her circle. Yet she sensed hiding beneath the surface was an alert predator, primed for action. There was a healthy outdoorsy look about him. His dark skin tone indicated whatever he did for a living wasn't behind a door in an air-conditioned building somewhere, sitting at a desk.

He gave her the distinct impression he didn't particularly want to be there. She took another sip of her drink, striving not to be obvious as she kept her gaze trained on him, taking in his jet-black hair. It looked as if he'd been running his hands through it all evening. Feminine interest had her wondering if it was as thick and silky as it appeared. She wondered if he was alone. A quick glance around the room revealed no one else who came close to measuring up to the raw magnetism he portrayed.

A male in his prime.

He brought his glass to his lips, glancing about the room over the rim until his gaze came back to her. Their eyes met and held, causing Sophie to catch her breath again. Her heart skipped a beat. A delicious heat uncurled deep inside her body, making her pulse leap excitedly, a sensation she hadn't experienced in a long time. And never with Jonathan.

Thank goodness she was skilled in the art of keeping her composure even under the most difficult of circumstances, praying anyone observing her didn't notice the faint outward changes she couldn't control. She didn't need to glance into a mirror to know the heat filling her cheeks left them a rosy hue, branding her. Perhaps she could blame it on the champagne.

"Darling, you're drinking." Cool, masculine lips briefly touched the exposed skin at Sophie's collarbone. A shiver escaped her before she could stop it. She hoped Jonathan thought it was a quiver of desire and not the revulsion she actually felt whenever he touched her.

It wasn't as though he were unattractive. On the contrary, Jonathan was extremely good-looking. A real life Ken doll with stylish blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. Yet it was the monster behind those boyish good looks and southern charm that scared her. From the beginning, she'd heard rumors about how he'd attained his wealth. Stories laced with unfavorable content, and now she had firsthand knowledge of how devious he could be when he wanted something.

"You look ravishing tonight," he drawled close to her ear, purposely letting his lips brush against her again. To make matters worse, his hands smoothed up her bare arms to her shoulders, caressing her openly.

Sophie realized she'd have to get over her aversion to Jonathan soon enough. Once they were married, she'd hardly be able to keep him from her bed. As he seemed determined to stake his claim in an unusual public display of affection, she lowered her eyelids, effectively hiding her dislike from the others in the room.

"Darling? Is something wrong?"

Sophie knew he was waiting for a response, but when she raised her head it was the dark compelling stare of a stranger who captured and held her gaze.

* * * *

Brent was trained to notice things. The tiniest telltale flicker in Sophie's beautiful eyes when their gazes met gave her true feelings away when her fiancé touched her. The barely noticeable stiffening of her body after Lord removed his lips sent up a warning flag Brent couldn't ignore. His narrowed, not missing the way her hand trembled slightly as she brought the champagne glass to her rose-colored mouth.

The lady was definitely repulsed by Lord's touch. Either that or she loathed public displays, which he quickly dismissed. If Lord noticed anything, he ignored it, too arrogant and self-assured. Yet Brent's instincts told him he knew exactly what Sophie's reaction was to his touch and that he was taking secret pleasure in it.

Some men got off on forcing their unwanted attentions on a woman when they knew it wasn't reciprocated. For some reason, those ungrounded thoughts sent a rush of anger through Brent as the conversation he'd had with Senator Adams two days before came back to him. Was he correct in his theory that Sophie was being blackmailed into marriage? Brent knew enough about Jonathan Lord's reputation to know the man never took no for an answer. When he wanted something, he got it by whatever means available to him. He was shrewd in his business dealings, lucky with his money investments, and thrived on power, most especially the kind he'd acquire once he and Sophie were married.

Add that to the several high-ranking politicians already in his hip pocket and the man was set for life. It was rumored he was good at digging up dirt, the kind people in high places paid a lot of money to keep from becoming public. Of course no one was brave enough to come right out and accuse him of blackmail, which made Lord a dangerous man as far as Brent was concerned. The kind a person would have to be a fool to cross, unless they were an influential senator.

Senator Adams had a bulldog reputation of standing his own ground when he wanted something too. He got results. If he suspected Sophie was being blackmailed into marrying Lord, he would do anything to find out what Lord's leverage was in order to prevent it, not excluding kidnapping. The million-dollar question was what did Lord have on Sophie that would force her to marry him against her will?

His gaze traveled over her again, more leisurely this time, wondering what secrets the lady was hiding. One thing was certain though, that gown she was wearing wasn't hiding any of them. As he watched the exchange between her and Lord closely, he reached for another glass of champagne, preferring something stronger like a shot of whiskey. Taking a sip, he narrowed his gaze on the way she rolled her shoulder out from under Lord's caressing hand, the action causing Brent's mouth to curve into a knowing smile.

### Chapter 2

Sophie knew it was just a matter of time before Jonathan insisted they join the others outside for dinner. Especially once he spied some of the same acquaintances who had attended their pre-wedding banquet several nights before. He had the gall to assume their union automatically made her friends his, thus moving him further inside her well-bred circle. However, what he didn't know was she didn't intend to make things easy for him.

"I'm still waiting for an answer, darling."

"I have a slight headache tonight," she lied, praying he would accept her explanation for refusing to stay. She was forced to meet his gaze when he purposely stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the room and the intriguing stranger.

"Poor baby." He reached up, running the back of his hand along her cheek, his demeanor overflowing with the self-confidence she was growing accustomed to, and hated. "Maybe you're worried about tomorrow?"

Our wedding day.

Her stomach churned wildly at the thought. In the morning she'd become his wife; his to do with whatever he wanted because Sophie knew in his eyes she'd belong to him, as if she were a piece of property. Visions surfacing of his one attempt at making love to her reminded her there'd be no tenderness in his possession. Once aroused, his southern charm disappeared completely. It was only because she'd struck a desperate bargain with him that he hadn't touched her again. She'd made a pact with the devil and there was no one who could save her.

Turning abruptly away from him, she inhaled deeply, directing her forlorn gaze out the window to the lighted patio beyond. People were milling about, helping themselves to the elaborate buffet set up for the special occasion, while others danced to the soft music provided by the live band beneath the decorated gazebo. Yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape Jonathan's watchful expression, reflected in the glass as he looked over her shoulder. His mouth parted with a smile that contradicted the cold look in his eyes.

She tried not to cringe when his hands dropped to her shoulders, his fingers slipping beneath the material of her gown. He was just arrogant enough to press his body against her, revealing to all who watched he had that privilege. Her gaze moved past his image to the stranger standing across the room, her heart jumping wildly when she realized he was observing them with intense interest.

When most people got caught staring, they quickly glanced away, but not this man. He was too uncaring for that; too curious in what was going on between her and Jonathan. As his gaze traveled a lazy path down the length of Sophie, she grew warm, quivering slightly beneath his visual caress. Then all at once he finished the contents in his glass before setting it down. Even from her vantage point she could make out the unmistakable tightening of his expression, as though he was angry about something, or was it just her imagination?

"Darling, you really must get over your fear of tomorrow," Jonathan said, just loud enough for his voice to carry to an elderly couple walking by. "We're getting married," he announced, returning their congratulatory smiles. However, for Sophie's ears he murmured, "I can hardly wait for tomorrow night. These last few weeks..."

She didn't know how much more she could take, so she tuned him out. Two months of pretending to be enamored with him took its toll. A real headache was starting to throb in her temple. She closed her eyes for a moment, suspecting the glare of the lights weren't helping. Jonathan reached around her, taking the glass from her hands.

"I suspect you've had enough of this." After he set it down on the window ledge his hand returned to her arm, caressing her in what appeared a loving gesture to anyone observing. Always conscious of any peering eyes, he tilted her head to expose the side of her neck where he planted a lingering kiss.

Sophie was growing angry and tired over his continuous show of pretended affection, suspecting he was purposely baiting her. "Please," she pleaded, softly so only he could hear her. "We have a deal," she reminded him in a strained voice, her skin crawling where his lips had been.

Revealing her words had infuriated him, he tightened his hands on her with just enough pressure to cause her mild pain but not enough to make her cry out. "Yes, we have a deal," he gritted in a low tone. "I only hope you remember that tomorrow night, darling. Because nothing will keep me from claiming my rights."

_His rights?_ The icy coldness of his tone sent a chill down Sophie's spine. She suspected being his wife wasn't going to be the thing fairy tales were made of. Then his hands were gone and she watched him stride away, releasing a sigh of relief and not giving a damn who heard it.

All of a sudden she knew she couldn't take anymore, not tonight; she had to get out of there before she screamed or shouted out the truth to everyone! The walls were closing in on her and tomorrow they'd be exchanged for prison bars. She whipped around to flee, slamming bodily into the tall stranger who'd been watching her. How could she have forgotten him? Without warning his hands were on her, steadying her, yet not setting her away from him.

Her heart jumped in her breast when she glanced up to meet the deep greenish-gold of his magnetic eyes. So much assailed Sophie's senses all at once. The strength in his warm, slightly callused hands; the hardness of a body probably honed by healthy eating and exercise, and a face tanned deeply by the sun, handsome in spite of the tiny scar above his left eyebrow.

Her nostrils flared, gently taking in his masculine scent, something spicy and hot and not overpowering. Teasingly light.

Unexpectedly arousing.

Time seemed to stand still. His charisma was so powerful she feared her reaction was obvious to those in their vicinity. At the very least, obvious to the people who knew her like her father and Jonathan. However, her father wasn't there; she searched the crowd nervously for Jonathan.

Years of schooling and practice had trained Sophie on how to camouflage her feelings in public, only allowing people to see what she wanted them to see. However, she knew her instant response to this man had caught her off-guard, slipping beyond the formal and appropriate decorum she struggled to maintain. She knew the heat filling her cheeks was as visible to him as to anyone else looking on. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, wondering how many seconds had passed, how many minutes. Surely too many to go unnoticed.

"Excuse me," he murmured in a deep baritone, catching Sophie unaware. His gaze skimmed over her face before falling to her breasts. She reluctantly glanced down, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her. Her breasts were barely concealed, spilling over the top of her gown. Her gaze flew back to his. The interest in his eyes danced with as much sexual awareness as displeasure, causing a fire storm to sweep through her.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes!" Her husky tone revealed the man had reached her on a purely sensual level. She made a slight effort to pull away, but his hands only tightened around her upper arms. She narrowed her eyes on his. After a few tense moments of silence she ordered, "Please take your hands off me."

His eyebrows shot upward in obvious surprise before his face turned dark, like a volcano getting ready to erupt. The look he cast upon her caused a sliver of alarm down her spine. Sophie hadn't meant her tone to come out sounding so snooty. His reaction over it made her thankful she was in a crowded room.

Slowly, his hands uncurled, a muscle twitching in his strong jaw. Sophie got the distinct impression he wanted to say something, and was just barely holding onto his control. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation that might draw attention to them, or even worse, end up in the paper the next day. Right next to her and Jonathan's wedding picture.

He surprised her by standing back, gallantly making room for her to leave in an exaggerated gesture that caused her cheeks to fill with heat. She glared at him for a moment, fighting the unaccustomed impulse to slap his handsome face. Something warned her that was the response he was hoping for. Well, she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. She twirled around and without as much as a backward glance, exited through the doors into the breezy tropical night.

By the time Sophie neared the end of the steps leading down to the street, a stretch limousine pulled up in front of her. The driver jumped from behind the wheel, and opened the door for her. She gratefully slipped in, laying her head back and relaxing against the buttery soft cushions, resisting the urge to order him to drive her all the way to Canada.

_How I hate Jonathan!_ And how she blamed her mother, whom she hadn't seen since she was a young child, for putting her into this intolerable situation. If she didn't love her father so much she would have told Jonathan to go straight to hell when he informed her she was going to marry him, and why he had the power to make her do so. At first she'd balked, until realizing there was no way she could knowingly cause her father's demise by remaining indifferent to Jonathan's threats. Threats, Sophie knew, he wouldn't hesitate to carry out.

Within minutes, the driver pulled the luxury car into the parking garage beneath her expensive Ft. Lauderdale apartment building. As expected, she waited until he opened the door before slipping from the leather interior with a brief acknowledgment. She turned toward the elevator with one thought on her mind: wondering how she could commit murder and get away with it. Because there was no way she would get married the next morning, much less let Jonathan put his hands on her. Only, who was she fooling? Sophie knew she really had no choice in the matter. Unless her fairy godmother appeared waving her magic wand, she was going to walk down that aisle in the morning and see the whole charade through. She'd worry about tomorrow night when it arrived.

She shivered repulsively, watching the numbers light up as the elevator took her to the seventh floor. Thoughts of her and Jonathan were quickly replaced with the intriguing man at the museum, their brief encounter flashing through her mind. She couldn't help recalling the little thrill that had surged through her blood when she'd bumped into him. Little thrill? More like a colossal mind-blowing, dizzying rush! She could still feel the warmth of his strong hands on her arms, causing a delicious tingle she hadn't taken the time to fully appreciate. The fact his height complimented hers was an added bonus. She couldn't help wondering what dancing with him would be like.

Impatient with herself for fantasizing about a stranger she'd probably never see again, she shook her head to clear it. She had to figure a way out of her current dilemma. She stepped off the elevator, noticing two things at once. Several light bulbs had burned out leaving the corridor dim, and there was a stack of boxes against the wall by the apartment door nearest hers, a clear indication someone had finally moved in. She vaguely wondered if it was the couple from England she'd met viewing it the month before. It would be nice having neighbors again. An electrical fire had swept through the seventh and eighth floors a few months before, forcing most of the tenants out during renovations, and Sophie had been the first one to move back in. Once the penthouse apartment was completed, Jonathan had plans to move them up there.

It took several tries of fumbling with the key in her lock before she was able to insert it and open the door. She immediately dropped her evening handbag on the table in the foyer, following it with the diamond engagement ring. Reaching up, she all but yanked the emerald choker from around her throat, tossing that there as well.

She closed and locked the door behind her before reaching for the light switch to turn on the floor lamp in the corner, but nothing happened, which didn't make any sense because the dimming lights above the mirror in the foyer were on. She supposed it was possible the light bulb had burned out, but that didn't explain why the lights in the corridor were out. Frowning, she began to wonder if the building was experiencing another electrical problem.

She wasn't about to wait for the fire alarm and reached for the phone to call maintenance when the doorbell rang, halting her. "Yes?" she called out, peering into the peephole. She could just make out a uniform of some kind but the hat the man was wearing kept his features in the shadows as he read over something on the clipboard in his hand. Someone had apparently already phoned in the problem.

"Electrician, ma'am. A couple of the tenants have called about a problem with the power. Are you experiencing any trouble?"

Sophie smiled upon opening her door. "As a matter of fact, I..." Her gaze dropped to the gun he pulled out from beneath the clipboard, the rest of what she'd been about to say stuck in her throat. Taking an instinctive step back, her startled gaze darted up to his.

"I'm not going to hurt you, ma'am." He was shorter than Sophie but by no more than an inch or two, pushing his way into her apartment as he spoke to her in a tone that almost bordered on apologetic.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she demanded in a voice hardly recognizable as her own. Several wild thoughts flashed instantly through her mind. "Take my jewelry and go." She indicated the marble table.

"Jewelry?" He actually looked dumbfounded, glancing at the jewelry before returning his gaze to her. "I'm not here for your jewelry," he explained quickly, as if to reassure her.

Sophie became frightened then, wondering what that meant. She stared at the gun in his hand, which was shaking slightly, but that didn't stop her heart from racing with fear. "Then why do you have a gun?" It wasn't very big but that didn't make it any less deadly.

"A necessity," he said quietly, somewhat distracted.

As he walked further into the room, her mind registered the fact he'd left the door wide open behind him; a careless move for a criminal. If he isn't here to rob me, then what does he want? She immediately halted the direction of her thoughts. Now was definitely not the time to let her thoughts run wild and besides, he didn't strike her as a rapist or a killer. The profiles she'd seen on TV about serial killers quickly evaporated from her thoughts. If she was going to stand a chance against escaping him, she had to keep a clear head.

She knew she had to escape him somehow but doubted she'd get very far in three-inch heels, and she certainly couldn't outrun a bullet. Strangely enough the man seemed intent on something and at the moment, it wasn't her. He appeared to be looking for something, or rather someone. As he continued to search the darkness beyond her, Sophie gave him a shove, turned and ran.

"Hey!" he shouted after her, just as she reached the elevator.

She jabbed her finger on several buttons, cursing when the doors didn't open right away. As she swung around wildly, her gaze fell on the door directly across from the elevator that led to the stairwell.

"Wait!" he called out as if fully expecting her to do his bidding, sounding more anxious than angry.

Sophie ignored him, realizing she'd be a fool for letting the opportunity to escape slip by. Swallowing the fear lodged in her throat, she pulled her gown up and opened the stairwell door, dashing down the stairs as fast as she could run.

### Chapter 3

The elevator door opened and Brent stepped into the hallway just in time to see Sophie disappearing behind the stairwell door. Shooting Tom a look of disgust, he took off after her. If you want something done right, do it yourself. All Tom had to do was escort her to the apartment across the hallway and hold her there until he arrived. It was his fault for not taking into account that Tom's adventures were strictly limited to office work and not kidnapping.

Brent knew he had to stop Sophie before she reached the garage, and security. Senator Adams had spent nearly a week just convincing him to help and now the whole plan was about to go up in smoke. There was no way he was about to face his old friend this early in the game with news of failure. He hit the door running, the force sending it against the wall as he sprinted after her taking the stairs two at a time. Her speed and determination surprised him; she was already a floor away. Funny, she hadn't struck him as a survivalist but more like a woman who'd be helpless against someone kidnapping her. He'd taken her softness and pampered upbringing for granted and should have remembered that looks could be deceiving.

Just as she reached the third floor, he heard her gasp; watching as she stumbled before releasing a cry he suspected was from sheer frustration more than pain. Gaining on her, he reached out, his fingertips just grazing the delicate bones of her shoulder. A scream of pure fright echoed through the hollow stairwell, almost breaking his eardrums. She might as well have pulled the fire alarm. He swore. If the security guards didn't hear that and come running, it would be a miracle.

His hand closed firmly over her shoulder and he pushed her into a dark corner, entrapping her there with his body. Sensing she was about to let out another scream, he quickly slapped his hand over her mouth, effectively cutting it off.

"I'm not going to hurt you...damn it!" he swore when she bit down on his hand. "Unless you do that again!" he threatened, grating the words out as he shook his hand.

Brent knew it was too dark for Sophie to see him, but she had to know he wasn't the same man who'd entered her apartment. He and Tom were nowhere near the same height, or build. His hand returned to her mouth as he pinned her against the wall. He realized his mistake immediately. Everything about her assailed his senses, blinding him to what his objectives were. The last thing he expected was his body's betrayal by responding to her nearness. The first thing he had to do was distance himself.

"I'll remove my hand, if you promise..."

Brent shouldn't have reminded her about his hand. The next thing he knew she was biting down on it a second time. Adding insult to injury, she shoved him in the chest as hard as she could at the same time, catching him unaware. Before he had a chance to recover she took advantage of the moment by pushing herself away from the wall and taking flight.

"Damn it!" Brent grunted in anger. She managed to descend one step before he tangled a hand in her hair and hauled her back into his arms. A cry escaped her but Brent ignored it. He yanked her roughly against him. "Bite me again and you'll find out what it feels like," he muttered between his teeth.

"Who are you?" she asked softly. Brent felt her slight tremble and steeled himself for what he had to do. "What do you want?"

"One question at a time, princess." Brent realized he had to assert his dominance early on if he wanted to remain in control of the situation. Not giving much thought to the consequences, he pushed Sophie up against the concrete wall and leaned in close, threatening her with his superior strength and size.

His actions had repercussions he wasn't anticipating though. Like the rush of heat surging through his blood, turning the victim in his arms into a desirable woman. Wrestling with her provided conditions he hadn't counted on. Appealing circumstances which could easily upset the scheme of things if he let it.

Too much body contact for one.

"I demand you keep your hands to yourself!" she whispered sharply.

"Do you now?" he said softly, amused at her haughty tone. "You're not in any position to demand anything."

With every breath Brent took, he could smell her. Beyond the light scent of soap and perfume, to the sensuous woman beneath. A sexy combination of innocence and know-how. It was playing havoc with his senses, preventing him from keeping a clear head. He swore beneath his breath. Nothing good was going to come of this.

She was tall like he liked his women but he wasn't into rich, spoiled, society types who held themselves above others, thinking they were better than everyone else. He'd watched Sophie long enough to know she was used to the best in life and probably demanded it. A woman who let society rule her emotions, not her heart. He recalled her quiet, almost suffering acceptance of Lord touching and kissing her, putting up with it because it was expected of her and not because she'd liked it. That action alone told him a lot about her.

She was probably as cold as a block of ice in bed.

"I demand you tell me who you are and what this is all about," she said in a frigid tone, confirming his thoughts.

Her snooty tone grated on his nerves. "Demand all you want, princess, it won't get you anywhere." He was glad she'd broken his train of thought. He could care less what she was like in bed and would do well to remember that. What's more, he doubted her father would appreciate his wayward notions. Brent respected and liked Senator Adams. It was because of that reason that alone he was doing this in the first place.

This, meaning kidnapping. So far Sophie was more trouble than he'd anticipated which could cause serious problems down the road. He'd have to watch her like a hawk. It hadn't taken her long to get the drop on Tom. Well, she'd learn soon enough that he wasn't a pushover. "Come on." He yanked her away from the wall.

"Let me go!" She tried to pull free. "Ouch! You're hurting me! I'm not going anywhere with you!"

Brent swung around and pulled her up against him. "You have a choice, lady; you can come with me the easy way, or like a sack of potatoes over my shoulder. In case it hasn't hit you yet, I'm stronger than you." She stiffened even more, apparently not liking his condescending tone.

Suddenly a door on the floor above them opened and someone entered the stairwell. The lights flickered back on at the same time.

Talk about rotten luck! And timing! Brent's gaze pinned Sophie. He watched her black-fringed eyes widen in shock as they moved over him. He'd removed his tie and jacket but was still wearing the same black slacks. His forearms were bare where he'd rolled his white shirtsleeves up to his elbows. There was no doubt in her pretty eyes that she recognized him. Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

"You!" she gasped, her accusing tone slicing through him like a sharp knife.

As her thorny exclamation echoed through the stairwell, Brent swore, tilting his head to see who'd entered the landing above them. He relaxed when he recognized Tom's silhouette in the threshold.

"Please help me!" Sophie cried up at Tom, apparently not recognizing him.

"He's with me, princess." Brent pulled her away from the wall. "We'll be right up," he called to Tom.

"You won't get away with this!"

"I already have." Brent should have been prepared for what happened next. And he would have been, if he'd been more focused on the matter at hand and not her soft curves. The second

Tom closed the door she made her move, once again catching him unaware. She pushed and pulled against him until she broke free. His eyes grew round when he lost his balance. He watched helplessly as Sophie turned and dashed up the stairs as fast as she could.

He was getting tired of this. "Damn it!"

His curse didn't so much as slow her down. Brent recovered, and stormed up the steps like a mad bull. Sophie glanced back at him once and let out a cry. Brent was gaining on her. She stumbled and lost a shoe, but that didn't stop her from swinging back around and reaching for the door knob. He watched as she struggled with the heavy door, until she was finally able to open it, before stumbling into the hallway. He reached for the door before it closed, entering the hallway in time to see Sophie sprint unladylike toward her apartment.

Brent knew he had to stop her. If she managed to get inside and lock him out, no telling what damage she could do before he got to her. Her groan of frustration echoed in the narrow corridor as she fumbled with the doorknob, nearly falling inside her apartment and slamming the door in Brent's face. Before she could turn the lock, he shoved it open with such force that she stumbled backwards. She cried out, running further into the apartment before coming to a halt. The look in her wild eyes revealed she knew there was nowhere for her to go.

"Going somewhere, princess? You forgot your glass slipper." He held up her dainty heel by the broken strap.

"Stay away from me!" The glass swan she snatched off the nearest table was probably expensive, but she tossed it at him without a care. Her aim was wild, missing Brent by a mile and hitting a picture on the wall. Both went crashing loudly to the floor. He grinned at the disbelief in her lovely eyes, and slowly walked toward her. She darted away from the table, grabbing a lamp on the away by. "Security will be here any minute!" she gasped in a desperate tone.

"Really?" Brent knew she was lying. "You didn't have time to make a call, and I happen to know the apartments at this end of the corridor are empty." He continued to pursue her, ducking when she threw the lamp. "I'm not going to hurt you." It was the truth. But if she forced him to subdue her she might get a little roughed up in the process.

"I don't believe you."

Brent was just inches away. His gaze ran over her. She was breathing heavy; her full breasts were satiny smooth over the top of her gown. He unwillingly recalled what they'd felt like against his chest. How quickly his body had responded to her.

Something in his expression must have frightened her, because alarm washed over her face. She reached down and removed her other shoe, threw it at him, then turned and headed for the direction of the kitchen. Brent was right behind her, entering the kitchen just as she opened up a drawer. She whipped around to face him with a knife in her trembling hands. The little fool! What did she think she was going to do with that?

His gaze narrowed on the blade. Before he could warn her to put it down she seemed to have second thoughts. She dropped it in exchange for a small, wooden hammer. Without hesitation, she threw it at him. He quickly raised his hand and caught it in midair, grinning at the look of disbelief spreading across her lovely face.

"Why are you doing this? What do you want?" Not giving Brent time to reply, she twisted around as though to flee. Only there was no escape for her, unless she decided to go over the countertop, which Brent highly doubted.

He moved up behind her, trapping her against the counter with his body. "You're good and stuck, princess." He was close enough for his breath to stir the fine hairs at the back of her neck. Close enough to breathe in her silky warmth. Her delicate shiver awakened something deep inside Brent. Like any red-blooded male, he was attracted to beautiful women. In spite of a hard lesson learned from his last involvement, to be precise, Connie Simmons. A relationship that had turned sour, while making him cautious and skeptical of any woman's intentions. Sophie had already proved more resourceful than he'd anticipated. He wasn't about to let his guard down anytime soon. No matter how enticing she was.

His body had other ideas though, betraying him by their close proximity. Only he fought it down. "You might as well give up." He twisted her around in his arms, at the same time reaching for the knotted scarf in his pocket. He'd crammed it in there just in case, thankful now for his last minute thought.

"No!" she screamed, struggling wildly when her eyes lit on the scarf. "Help!"

She strained away as Brent's hand moved closer to her, and opened her mouth to let out what he sensed would be another ear-piercing scream. He moved quickly, and stuffed the knot into her mouth before tying the loose ends at the back of her head. All the while she struggled furiously against him, but he had no trouble using his greater strength to keep her right where he wanted her.

The panicked expression on her frightened face almost caused Brent to hesitate, almost. For the first time, he began to question what he was doing and the reasons why. Was terrifying her this way worth it? The senator might not think so if he could see Sophie's frightened face right then. Yet Brent knew he couldn't afford to soften.

"Sorry, but I gave you fair warning," he grated in an unsympathetic voice that said it was her own damn fault.

She continued to struggle wildly, trying to break free. Brent grabbed her arms and forced them behind her, locking her wrists together at the small of her back. His gaze remained on her pale face, moving over her delicate features in a leisurely sweep before sliding down the graceful column of her throat and below.

Part of him knew his look was calculated to intimidate her, make her wonder what he would do next. He took a few seconds to appreciate the beauty of her skin, how soft and flawless, before letting her muffled sounds of protest snag his attention. She shuddered against him, whimpering behind the gag in her mouth. Brent's gaze slid back up to study her face, noticing her pupils were dilated with fear. Everything his mother had taught him about treating a woman came rushing to the surface, almost crippling him from carrying out his scheme.

As much as it bothered him, he was glad she was smart enough to be afraid. He needed her frightened if his plan was going to work. It might help keep her manageable and God knew he needed all the help he could get. A sudden movement at the doorway drew his attention and he stiffened before realizing it was Tom.

"I'm sorry she got away from me earlier, Brent, but she caught me by surprise." Brent flashed him a scathing look for using his name, when they'd already agreed on an alias. Tom paused in the open doorway, his face turning red when his mistake caught up to him. "Sorry," he said lamely.

"Don't sweat it," Brent muttered, reaching inside his pocket for a second piece of cloth. He jerked Sophie away from the counter, tying her hands together with a bad feeling in his gut.

So far nothing was going to plan.

### Chapter 4

As it began to dawn on Sophie that she was being abducted, she strained against Brent's hold in earnest, dragging her feet in an effort to stall for time. Maybe with a little luck someone had heard the commotion and phoned security. However, she soon realized he was much stronger. Without half-trying he curled his hand around her upper arm like a steel shackle, forcing her to walk ahead of him. As they moved closer to the door she realized she had to do something. She couldn't just go with them without a fight.

As they reached the threshold, desperation forced her into letting her body go limp. Maybe pretending to faint would work to her advantage, but unfortunately her plan was short-lived. She heard Brent release a tisk of annoyance before scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of unwanted potatoes. At least he hadn't let her hit the floor, but his undignified solution to the problem was no less welcome.

The gag only muffled her groan of protest over the unladylike position. Frustrated her fainting spell hadn't worked, she began to squirm vigorously, gaining nothing but a grunt of irritation and a hard slap that wounded her pride more than her posterior. She had no idea where they were going. From her vantage point all she could see was the back of his neatly pressed slacks and the royal blue carpet embellished with little gold crowns.

They hadn't gone very far when they paused before a door, long enough for Brent's partner in crime to unlock and open it for them to pass through. The short distance told Sophie they'd entered the vacant apartment next to hers, making her recognize they were the new tenants. They'd obviously thought of everything. The tenants who lived in the building were extremely wealthy, valuing their privacy. Unless they had a good reason, security would think twice before knocking on a tenant's door to question them.

"Something tells me we aren't going to get lucky where security is concerned, which means they could show up here any minute. Keep your eye on the peephole. You know what to do if they come knocking," she heard Brent say over his shoulder as he continued through the room in hurried strides. "Don't screw this up, Tom." He strode into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him and dumping Sophie unceremoniously on the bed.

She bounced several times before coming to a stop, staring at Brent over the gag with a mixture of fear and anger churning in her stomach. What would he do now? As if he had read her mind, his face split into a wolfish grin, adding to her apprehension when his hands quickly moved to the buttons on his shirt. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when he began to undo them. Why was he unbuttoning his shirt? She raised her gaze to find him watching her, shaking her head no vigorously. However, his only response was a wider grin if that were possible, turning his eyes a darker shade of gold. His slightly spread-eagle stance was as intimidating as it was sexy. She tried to swallow behind the gag, nearly choking herself.

"Getting nervous now, are we, princess?" Brent pulled his dress shirt out of his slacks, slipping it off his shoulders before letting it fall carelessly to the floor.

Her stare zeroed in on his sculptured, well-defined chest that appeared every bit as hard as the rock of Gibraltar, complimented by a pair of the widest shoulders she'd ever seen on a man. Mesmerized, she followed his strong hands when they dropped to the belt buckle at his waist, watching him deftly undo it before moving to unsnap and unzip his pants. It quickly dawned on her that he was undressing all the way. Her heart lodged in her throat at what that could possibly mean, wishing she'd put up more of a struggle to escape; now it was too late. Whatever Brent had planned, it was clear by the intense look on his face he wasn't going to change his mind.

She was beginning to feel like a sacrificial virgin, lying there helplessly while waiting to be conquered. Her eyes rounded pleadingly over the gag in a silent attempt to get him to change his mind but his hands didn't falter. His gaze remained cemented on hers, revealing a volley of complex emotions she couldn't begin to unravel.

Then something made him pause, and Sophie wondered if it had anything to do with her expression. She'd never been so frightened in her life and knew it had to be reflected on her face.

"Sorry, princess. You've forced me to come up with a change of plans. You made too much ruckus for it to go unnoticed by the few tenants living close by. My gut tells me we're going to have company."

_Company?_ Sophie felt a glimmer of hope. But before she had a chance to get too excited Brent kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks, staring down at her. "If I thought Tom could handle you, I'd turn you over to him."

Ohmigod...what did that mean?

When his hands moved to the open waistband of his slacks, her eyes widened with alarm. She felt her heart racing, her gaze locking on to his. His hands faltered, a muscle in his jaw tightening. Suddenly there was a knock at the door, tearing into the tense moment like a gun shot blast.

"The security guards are knocking on the door down the hallway!" Sophie heard Tom say in a voice rushed with panic. "I think they're heading this way!"

Tom's comment spurred Brent into action. He yanked off his pants and knelt on the bed, ignoring her pathetic whimper of appeal. His added weight on the mattress forced her to roll his way. She couldn't stop him from reaching behind her, where he made quick work at untying her hands. As soon as she was free Sophie brought them up to fend him off, aiming for his face, using her long nails like lethal weapons. Before they reached him Brent snagged her wrists, slamming them down on the bed, and lowering his face close to hers.

The fierce look in his eyes terrified Sophie; she stilled, and held her breath. What was he going to do?

"Good, now that I have your attention," he said in a low, threatening tone. "This is how it's going to be."

As scared as she was, Sophie inwardly bulked at his arrogance, but she was helpless against him. She'd been raised a lady, had gone to some of the finest schools for the well-to-do. Nothing in the two years of etiquette classes her gentile grandmother insisted she take had prepared her for something as unforeseeable as this. She was sorry now, for turning up her nose at the chance to take the self-defense courses offered the last year of high school. The knowledge of where to hit an attacker would definitely come in more useful now than which side of the plate the salad fork went.

She made an attempt to break free, which Brent quickly took care of by giving her wrists a jerk against the bed. "I'm not going to hurt you, unless you force me to. Is that clear?"

_Do I dare trust him?_ She stared into his eyes for a moment, as if gauging the truth behind his statement, before finally nodding slowly. _What else can I do?_

"We're about to have company, princess, so I'm going to remove your gag, but if you try anything, anything at all," he stressed in a forceful tone, "you'll have what happens to them on your conscience." He paused for a moment. "Do you understand?" he inquired softly.

Sophie nodded, as he reached for the gag. "I'm going to keep my fingers crossed that you're not some spoiled, rich society type who doesn't care about what happens to anyone other than yourself."

"My father will give you whatever you want!" she was compelled to whisper the moment the gag was removed from her mouth. "My fiancé..."

"In due time, princess." Brent cocked his head as though to listen for the sound of something significant coming from the outer room. "Right now we have to make it through the next few minutes. Think you can play the convincing part of a woman in the act of making love?"

"What?" Sophie's jaw dropped, she couldn't have heard him right. "I don't understand."

His hands moved to the halter straps of her gown, curling around the delicate fabric. "Sure you do. If security opens that door, I want them taking in the scene of two people so engrossed with each other that they don't know what's going on around them."

"Please don't," Sophie whispered sharply, realizing what he was about to do. Her hands pressed against his chest, the heat of his solid flesh beneath her palms sent a current of sharp awareness through her body, which she promptly ignored. She lowered her gaze, taking in the contrast of her scarlet-tipped nails buried in the sprinkle of crisp, black hair covering his chest. "I'll cooperate!" she promised desperately, feeling his fingers tugging at the material as though testing its strength. "That's what you want, isn't it?" She held her breath, watching his gold eyes flicker with hesitation.

His expression revealed he wasn't sure he could trust her, yet she was finally rewarded with a deep sigh of resignation. "If you double-cross me..."

"I won't, I promise." Sophie wasn't stupid. Nodding eagerly, she began to relax. But that turned out to be a mistake. Instead of letting go, Brent's hands gave a sharp tug, pulling the halter loose from the back of her neck.

Her astonished gasp echoed throughout the room. Glancing down with reluctance, she was thankful to see the action had only bared her shoulders. One hand flew to her breasts to make sure the material remained there. "Why..." That was as far as she got. Voices outside their room indicated company had arrived.

"Let's see if you know the true meaning of teamwork." Brent lowered his face to hers as he spoke, forcing her further into the pillow, but there was no escaping him. The warmth of his breath caused a shiver to run through her.

"What do you want me to do?" Her words came out low and breathless, barely registering.

"Put your arms around me," he demanded softly, watching her closely.

_Put my arms around him?_ Sophie gulped, reluctantly doing as she was told and praying there was nothing else.

"Now pucker up, princess, and kiss me like you mean it." His mouth was hovering over hers, so close Sophie could feel his breath against her trembling lips.

_Kiss him?_ Her eyes grew round at his command but before she could utter a protest, his mouth closed firmly over hers, stealing her breath away. The crazy thought flashed through her mind that if all he wanted was a kiss, she could cope with that. Only when he deepened his sensual attack she felt him slowly lower his weight against her.

If he thought she wouldn't notice what he was doing then he was in for a big surprise. Furious at his boldness and feeling betrayed by his action, she began to squirm like an eel out of water; trying everything she could to dislodge him. When nothing seemed to work she moved her hands between them, pushing against his chest. Using her nails like lethal weapons, she raked his flesh, getting an immediate response out of him.

He pulled back, sucking in his breath, his eyes blazing. "You little witch!"

"You're taking advantage..."

They both stilled when they heard Tom say in an overloud tone, "I'm telling you, there's no one in the bedroom except my brother and sister-in-law."

A glimmer of hope filled Sophie. If the security guards didn't pick up on Tom's obvious nervousness, then they weren't very good at their jobs. Before she had a chance to react to their muted responses, Brent slammed his mouth down on hers. She found her wrists grabbed and brought over her head. He clamped them together in one hand, using his other to reach for the edge of the comforter.

At least he was showing some consideration to the implied intimacy of their situation, even if it was for show. Yet knowing that didn't keep Sophie from struggling against him. If security opened the door she wanted them to see she wasn't a willing participant, in spite of telling Brent she'd cooperate. Instincts warned her she wouldn't get another chance like this.

Brent tore his mouth away from hers. "If this little show is going to work, the security guards have to believe we're very involved beneath the covers. So absorbed that a tornado can rip through the damn building and we wouldn't notice. You're acting more like a woman fighting off an assailant."

What did he expect? "Then maybe you'd better change your technique!"

His eyes blazed with sudden anger at her remark, and the next thing Sophie knew, he was giving her ear a barely controlled tug with his teeth. "You have about five seconds to start cooperating like you promised, or someone's going to get hurt," he rasped, sucking in a deep breath before lowering his mouth to hers again. This time in a more tender assault.

His threat couldn't be any clearer. Sophie forced herself to calm down, accepting the return of his mouth on hers. But that turned out to be a mistake. Once she stopped struggling, she became aware of other sensations: the sharp taste of his kiss; the sound of his hunger rumbling inside his chest, and the unwilling response of her own starved senses.

How could this be? It didn't make sense. She became afraid for other reasons, moaning deeply beneath the mastery of his persuasive mouth. She'd never been kissed so forcefully before, with a mixture of tenderness and savagery that left her confused and trembling with weakness, drunk with desire.

The invasion of his tongue made her hot inside and moist in places that ached for fulfillment. Yet she refused to give in, pushing her tongue against his in an effort to force him out of her mouth. It was a mistake. Though they each battled for dominance, the fire surging through Sophie's blood caught her completely unaware.

Something, a small noise, alerted her to the fact the bedroom door was opening. In spite of her promise, desperation forced her to twist her head to the side in a futile effort to break away. She unintentionally gave Brent's bottom lip a bite in the process. The animal sound that followed both frightened and excited her.

"Oops! See? I told you they were in here," Sophie heard Tom say in a slightly hushed tone. "They just returned from their honeymoon," he went on, just before closing the door again.

Sophie felt the change in Brent almost immediately, not realizing how tense he was until that moment. He gradually relaxed against her. Though he didn't break off the kiss, she sensed his concentration was more on what was going on around them, than what they were doing. Part of her balked at the ease in which he detached himself. He remained in complete control, while she was as hot as a furnace inside, her body pulsing with sensation. Finding the strength, she pushed against his shoulders, angrier with herself than frightened of him.

It seemed an eternity before he allowed her to push him away. Her gaze fell to his smooth, sensual mouth; hers still tingling by his masterful possession. Hardly understanding how it had brought her so much pleasure. Or, is it simply because I haven't been kissed in a long time? No, she quickly dismissed that thought. It hasn't been that long. She watched as his tongue slipped out to trace his bottom lip where her teeth had grazed him. There was a dollop of blood there.

Slowly reining in the desire riding her body she looked at him. The undisguised hunger she saw in those lazy, half-closed orbs made her yearn for him to take her lips again. Yet she forced the urge away, wondering where in heavens it had come from. Out of nowhere, a kiss meant to serve a purpose, had sparked a need of want so hard and fast in her body that she didn't know what to make of it. Did he feel it too?

She opened her mouth, not even sure what she was going to say, when he slapped his hand over it. He shifted his weight until she was completely pinned down by his hard body. Sophie's eyes widened when the move revealed he was hard as steel. She arched against him in an effort to throw him off, which only brought to attention how perfectly aligned their bodies were for lovemaking. She stiffened, fear and excitement overwhelming her senses at the same time.

"If I were you, I'd stop moving," he warned in a guttural tone. "I'll release you as soon as Tom gives me the okay."

Sophie could only guess that meant the three little knocks she heard at the bedroom door a minute later. Next thing she knew Brent released an audible sigh and rolled away from her. He got to his feet and glanced down at her, mild amusement, and something else, swimming in his sexy eyes.

"I can see it in your eyes, princess. Go ahead, blast away."

### Chapter 5

"You're despicable!" Sophie spat out, clutching the gown to her quivering breasts. "That's the last time I'm cooperating with you..."

Brent snorted, which turned her face even redder. "If that was cooperation, you need lessons, princess."

"You took advantage of me," she declared with anger, a matching gleam of disdain in her accusing eyes.

"I told you what I intended; when's the last time you made love with a man that didn't involve kissing?" It had been necessary to his plan. Only his reaction to the moment was definitely not part of it, catching him off-guard. He knew revealing that would be a huge mistake and possibly give Sophie the upper hand.

The last thing she needed to know was the taste of her mouth had rendered him temporarily mindless. That kind of power would give her the leverage she needed to have him eating right out of her pretty little hand. Brent had enough experience with women to know most of them were manipulative actresses who didn't have a faithful bone in their bodies. Doing anything to get them what they wanted.

He forced a smile he was far from feeling, hoping to disguise the desire still gripping him. No, not desire, lust. When he desired a woman it was because he held affection for her. Sophie had pushed him to the depths of raw, animal hunger without half trying.

"I demand you let me go." Her scathing tone cut through his thoughts as easy as a warm knife slicing through butter.

"Save your breath, lady, because you're not going anywhere, at least for a little while. In case it hasn't sunk in yet, you've been kidnapped. You're worth a lot of money."

"You're a bas-bastard!" she stammered, losing control. Obvious embarrassment over her outburst caused her to lower her face.

Brent grinned. The senator had told him Sophie hardly ever lost control, so he assumed what he was witnessing now was a new experience for her. "I've been called worse."

For a moment something about his mouth seemed to captivate her, before her gaze moved away to meet his. Was that fear in her eyes? Brent was willing to bet there'd been nothing in her life to prepare her for the mess she suddenly found herself. Although, according to the paper, her father had been the object of many such criminal attempts. One of which he'd been called in to help.

"You won't get away with this," she said quietly, peering at him from beneath the sweep of long lashes. He tried to pretend her innocent look wasn't sexy as hell. He reached for his pants and slipped them on, carefully zipping them up over the bulge of his arousal. He had to give Sophie credit; she refused to break eye contact with him, even when he was forced to adjust himself.

"I already have," he responded smugly, smiling in the face of her disdain.

She pressed her lips for a second before voicing, "I'd like nothing better then to wipe that smile off your face. The security guards couldn't have gone far."

Brent watched as she glanced about the room. He could just imagine what was going through that conniving mind of hers. There wouldn't be much he could do were she to suddenly let out a scream, or jump off the bed and begin throwing things. He was thankful there were no pictures, lamps or knickknacks of any kind. Besides a bed and practical dresser, the only other furniture in the room was a small table and chair in front of the bay window. He doubted she could throw a chair very far.

Finally her gaze came back to him, the expression on her face giving her away. She was going to try something stupid. "Don't even think about it," Brent warned, his stare narrowing on her threateningly. "Maybe you should consider the fate of others before acting carelessly." His brutal reminder quickly cleared the purpose in her eyes.

In time Brent would tell her everything but right now the less she knew the better. He needed her convinced this was the real thing, instinctively knowing if she knew her kidnapping was a scheme concocted by her own father she wouldn't remain manageable for very long, especially if she was anything like her father.

"It takes a brave man to control someone by threatening to hurt innocent people. Your mother must be very proud of you," she said in a voice laced with venom, her eyes snapping defiantly at him.

"Let's leave my mother out of this, princess." His tone was deceptively soft.

"And stop calling me princess," she demanded. When Brent leaned toward her, she nervously pulled the coverlet up to her chin as though it offered protection.

He laughed softly, putting a long finger beneath her chin and tipping it up. Her lips parted slightly; he was close enough to feel the warmth of her breath against his face. "What do you want me to call you?" In spite of her attempt to jerk away he held her firmly.

"Miss Adams," she replied smartly.

Her comment produced a bark of humorless laughter from him. She was serious. "I think we're past those formalities, don't you?" His gaze dropped, traveling from the startled expression in her eyes to her lips. She had a sassy mouth, just begging to be tamed. The memory of what she felt like squirming beneath him surfaced, hardening his resolve to ignore her appeal. "Consider yourself our guest until Lord pays up." His tone became as cold and sharp as a glacier. She shuddered at the mention of Jonathan's name, a reaction that didn't go unnoticed by Brent.

"What makes you think Jonathan will pay any ransom to get me back?" she finally voiced.

His brows rose with surprise. "The fact he loves you. You were supposed to become his wife tomorrow." Brent watched her reaction carefully, his gaze narrowing. "Weren't you?"

Brent schooled himself not to show any interest by the transformation that came over her face. Her expression suddenly revealed precisely what she felt for her soon-to-be husband, which confirmed the senator's suspicions. She wasn't exactly ecstatic over the prospect of marrying the millionaire. The million-dollar question was why. So far the senator had yet to fill him in on all the details. He reached inside his pants pocket and pulled out the engagement ring he'd snatched off the table on their way out of her place.

"Maybe wearing his ring will give you some comfort." The ring felt heavy in his hand. He glanced down at it, seeing the many facets of color catching the varying shades of light in the room. He'd always considered diamonds were cold stones resembling a chunk of ice. He glanced back at Sophie; she made him think of fiery opals and warm pearls.

Her gaze dropped to his palm and the truth became transparent in her lovely eyes. If he flushed it down the toilet she wouldn't care. Only he knew she'd never admit to that. She was too well bred and private, too proud. She raised her chin, meeting his quiet gaze with the swell of tears swimming in her eyes, exposing her vulnerability. Brent forced down his protective instincts.

"That stone is worth millions, why don't you just keep it and let me go?" she asked, breaking the silence.

He continued to hold the ring toward her. "Where would the fun be in that?"

She took the ring with obvious reluctance. "Thank you." Her low tone exposed the degree of emotion running through her. For a second Brent was sure he saw how much she detested Jonathan reflected in her eyes before she masked it. She curled her hand around the cold stone until her knuckles turned white. "What now? You gag me and tie me to the bed?"

"That's up to you. If you give me your word you'll behave, you can have the freedom to move around in this room. Double cross me, and I'll be forced to keep you drugged."

"Drugged!" Her eyes grew round. It was clear she didn't like the thought, yet she didn't say anything more. It didn't take a genius to realize she was weighing her options. _Did she think my offer of moving around freely would lead to escape?_

"Do you have any clothes for me?"

Brent's gaze took in her ruined gown. Bending, he scooped up his shirt and tossed it to her. "Put this on for now." She caught it against her, but otherwise didn't move.

The silence between them grew.

"What now?" He didn't try to disguise the impatience in his tone.

"Surely you don't expect me to put this on while you stand there watching?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"The gentlemanly thing by turning around."

Brent couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. "You take the cake, princess." He released a resigned sigh when she didn't show any signs of budging, and spun around so she could slip into his shirt. "Don't try anything cute; Tom's in the other room."

"You could leave the room..."

"Don't press your luck."

Brent grinned at her huff, and then nearly swallowed his tongue when he caught sight of Sophie in the mirror over the dresser. Neither of them had given it a thought. But he could clearly see everything the lady had to offer. She released the comforter, and his gaze rapidly took in her full breasts and narrow waist, the curve of her hips.

Before he had time to fully appreciate what he was looking at she quickly slipped into his shirt, doing up every button from the neck to the hem. She started to slide the ring on her finger but opened the nightstand drawer instead. He watched her drop it inside. Then, just as she was about to close the drawer she hesitated, and he knew her gaze had fallen on the gun he'd placed in there earlier.

Her gaze flew to him. It was clear she was still unaware that he could see her in the mirror. He recognized the indecision on her expression, right before she made a desperate grab for it. As she brought the small, black revolver up, Brent swung around. And before he knew it he was staring down the barrel of his own weapon.

Another time and he would have been amused at how badly the gun was shaking in her small hand. It appeared heavy and awkward, and he suspected she'd never handled one before. That could be dangerous, if the safety wasn't on. Their stares met, and clung. Fear churned in her pretty eyes, yet not enough to cause her to drop the gun. She pointed it at Brent as though she had experience handling it.

"For a man with a gun pointed at him you don't look very concerned," she had the guts to say.

Brent could tell his grin unnerved her. "What are you going to do with that?"

Her expression revealed his lack of response wasn't exactly what she'd been hoping for. She was more frightened than he was and she was the one with the gun. Testing her, Brent took a step in her direction; she took a step back in reaction. She gasped when the back of her thighs came up against the edge of the bed. It shouldn't have, but the look in her calculating eyes set his blood on fire. He never could back down from a challenge.

She wet her lips before saying, "Please, don't make me shoot you." Her stare clung to his. Brent took another step forward, knowing there was nowhere for her to retreat. Nowhere to go except back on the bed, and he doubted she'd do that willingly. "All I want to do is leave."

Brent shook his head slowly. "Sorry, princess, no can do." He halted within a foot of her, taking in the fact her hand was already weakening from the unaccustomed weight of the gun. "I guess you'll just have to shoot me." He held his arms out as if offering her an easy target.

Instincts warned Brent she'd never shoot him, even if she could. He probably stood a better chance of having the gun thrown at him. As the silence stretched between them he saw tears of frustration slip from her eyes and that sexy bottom lip tremble slightly. He swore beneath his breath and clenched his teeth, unprepared for the feeling her vulnerability had on him. A poised, spirited Sophie he could deal with.

"Damn you!" she sobbed huskily, surprising them both by the passion in her tone.

Brent reached forward and took the gun from her hand. "You couldn't have shot me anyway. The safety is still on." In spite of the tears slipping down her face she held her ground. Reacting to her softness, Brent surprised himself by gently wiping her cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm not going to hurt you." He felt compelled to promise.

"I don't believe you."

The mistrust in her eyes said it all. Brent didn't blame Sophie for not believing him. _Why should she when everything I've done so far led her to presume I'm a villain?_ A sucker for redhead, blue-eyed females in distress, he knew if he didn't force himself to walk away from her it was just a matter of time before he took her into his arms to comfort her. _And what kind of a kidnapper would that make me? Not a very credible one, that was for sure._

"I can't help that." He tucked the gun in the waistband of his pants, opening the closet door and reaching for a shirt. He slipped it on, buttoning it as he faced her again. "Just remember, I could have hurt you at any time and didn't." To prove how ruthless he could be Brent's gaze raked over her, visually stripping her naked. "I could have forced myself on you when we were putting on that little show."

"Thank you for restraining yourself; that was gentlemanly of you."

That haughty little tone rubbed him the wrong way and he clenched his teeth to keep from telling her to go to hell. It was apparent she wasn't going to give him credit for anything. He decided to do the gentlemanly thing and ignore her statement. "This will be your castle for a few days. There's a bathroom through that door." He indicated the direction with a nod. "The TV..."

"What about a phone? I'd like to call my father and let him know I'm all right."

She was kidding, right? Brent didn't have time for her smart mouth, which was only going to land her in trouble. "I'll be in touch with daddy," he retorted with cool authority. "But what about Lord?" She didn't seem to care about his feelings.

A knock at the door saved her from having to respond. Tom's voice came through loud and clear. "You have a phone call to make."

Brent's eyes darted to the clock on the dresser. It was almost twelve. "My cue to leave, princess." He stared at her long and hard, trying to decide if he should tie her to the bed and forget about anything else. "You could probably scream your head off and no one would hear you, but I'm not willing to take that chance. I'll take your word you'll behave and won't make any noise. What's it going to be?"

"Why should you believe me?"

"Because you're proud and like to think your morals are better than anyone else's." And because he knew if she was anything like her father, he couldn't expect anything less than the truth from her. The tightening of her mouth revealed she wanted to defy him, call him a liar, but she was a smart lady.

"I give you my word I won't make any noise."

Brent quickly picked up on the fact that Sophie eliminated the first half of his condition, wondering what kind of mischief she could really get into. She'd be locked in the room and there was no reason for Tom to open the door while he was gone. "You might want to use that bed and get some sleep."

"Don't hurry back."

The sugar in her voice sent up a warning flag but Brent didn't have time to figure out what she was stewing up in that pretty head of hers. The senator was waiting for his call.

### Chapter 6

"Senator..."

"What the hell is going on? I thought we'd decided not to contact Jonathan. This was supposed to look like Sophie getting cold feet about the wedding and taking off on her own!" the senator barked, interrupting Brent before he could fill him in. "Jonathan phoned me ten minutes ago with news he thinks she's been kidnapped."

Brent released a deep sigh. "An unforeseen change in plans, Senator. The best I can guess is that someone called security with a complaint they heard something. When the guards came to investigate they must have grown suspicious when they found Sophie's apartment empty. Being that Lord owns the building and his relationship with her, they apparently didn't waste any time contacting him."

"What a mess, Brent. Knowing Jonathan, this will be on the news before daybreak. You know what this means, don't you? Law enforcement will be involved, the FBI if they suspect a kidnapping. This puts you in a terrible situation."

"Won't be the first time I've been in trouble," Brent pointed out.

"No doubt. Hell, Brent, for the first time in my life I'm not sure which direction to take. Everything seemed so easy when we discussed it, but now..."

"Maybe we should release her and call the whole thing off," Brent advised, picking up on the defeat in the senator's tone. Turning Sophie loose was just fine with him. She'd been nothing but trouble from the get-go.

After a long pause Senator Adams replied, "No. It's done now. You might as well keep her for a couple days. Hopefully that will give me enough time to complete my investigation."

"It's your call," Brent retorted in a neutral tone.

"How's she holding up?"

The senator should be asking Brent how he was holding up. "She's fine for the time being," he responded, his gaze shooting to the bedroom door. All was quiet. With a little luck she was sleeping now, or close to it.

"I know having her kidnapped was a bit extreme but it was completely necessary in my book," the senator said in a tone that sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. "Be careful with her, Brent, she's a delicate flower and needs to be handled with kid gloves. Much too sweet for the likes of Lord."

_Delicate flower, are we talking about the same woman?_ Sophie was resourceful and unpredictable, the marks on his chest proof of that. She wasn't afraid to fend for herself. No, the senator obviously didn't have a clue that behind those round innocent eyes his sweet, delicate flower was a she-cat in lamb's clothing.

"By the way, where are you keeping her?" The senator's deep voice cut into Brent's silent thoughts. "Somewhere close?"

"You know I won't tell you that, Senator, especially now. A slip-up would be easy. The less you know about her whereabouts or anything else, the better." Secondly, it was the only way he could control the situation, which was what he was getting paid to do. He heard the senator expel an exasperated sigh, clearly struggling between common sense and paternal instincts. "You focus on your end and let me do my job."

"You're right of course. Until I find out what Lord is holding over her..." He clearly couldn't go on. Incensed into uncharacteristic silence and obviously consumed with the thought Sophie was being forced into something against her will.

The senator had told Brent his suspicions a week earlier during their first meeting. He was convinced Sophie would never be attracted to a power-hungry, unscrupulous bastard like Lord. Brent only hoped his temporary solution paid off because if it didn't the senator was going to lose his daughter, and he'd probably end up in jail for the next twenty-five years.

"Have you given any thought to what you're going to do next?" Senator Adams asked gruffly. "When are you going to officially contact Jonathan?"

It was only natural he wanted things to move along at a fast pace, considering he was known as the senator without a watch. Patience was definitely not one of his virtues. Brent started to smile before digesting the meaning in his comment. "You want me to contact him?" he inquired with disbelief.

"Why not?" Brent could hear the shrug of indifference in his brisk reply. "Maybe the truth will come out if it hits him in the wallet."

Brent frowned. "Sounds like you want me to ask for a ransom." He didn't mind helping out an old friend but there was such a thing as going too far. Holding Sophie against her will for a couple days could be overlooked with the senator's help.

"I really don't care what you do as long as you keep Sophie from him until I learn the truth," he said with hatred in his voice.

Brent didn't like the sound of that, deciding not to ask the obvious. If holding Sophie lasted more than a few days, he'd be forced to take matters into his own hands. "I'll contact Lord in a couple days, then." After he had time to figure out what to say.

"What? Why the delay? You've always been a man of action, taking charge as soon as the situation warranted it. That's why I asked you to help me." In addition to the fact they were cut from the same cloth. The senator had a vicious reputation for backing up his mouth.

"Control," Brent said simply. "Lord is a control freak. Let him worry about what might be happening to his lovely fiancée. Once I contact him it will drive him insane knowing she's with another man."

"Jonathan doesn't care for anyone but himself!" the senator snapped. "He wants Sophie as a trophy wife and to get to me. He thinks he'll have me under his thumb once he's my son-in-law. He has the reputation of a shark. I can't prove anything but I'm almost certain he's the reason Phil Brody stepped down from running for governor last year."

Brent had heard the same rumors about Brody. "That may be true, Senator, but he's still a man with more than his share of pride. Believe me when I say he won't welcome the thought that another man might be touching Sophie. Those kinds of doubts have a way of acting like acid in a man's gut."

The smile was evident in the senator's tone. "Yes..." he said, drawing out his response as though visualizing what they were talking about. "Good plan, son. I like the idea of planting those images in his arrogant head. That will definitely drive him mad. From what I've observed these last few weeks he's been overly possessive of my daughter."

Brent could almost understand that. She was the kind of woman men coveted while they feared at the same time. Wealthy, intelligent, beautiful, the kind who'd never held any special appeal to him. Nevertheless, in spite of the trouble she caused him and his peace of mind he couldn't deny he liked her spirit.

"Has it occurred to you that maybe Sophie wants this union?" Brent had to ask, although his instincts, coupled with what he'd observed between her and Jonathan so far, indicated otherwise. He'd known a few women who'd married for convenience, and money was a powerful incentive.

The senator didn't hesitate with a sharp response, his mind clearly made up. "No! Never! He's blackmailing her; I'd bet my life on it. There was no way I would just stand by and let her marry him tomorrow."

The conversation they'd had the week before came back to Brent. The senator had explained that kidnapping Sophie had been a last resort and not something he took lightly. Brent didn't take kidnapping lightly either, especially when he was the one doing it. His services usually bordered on protecting people from this sort of thing.

Still, when the senator had first phoned Brent, detailing his plan, the distraught father wouldn't take no for an answer. Brent had tried to reason with the senator but the desperation he'd detected in his old friend's tone had finally worn Brent down. Convincing Brent that maybe the senator was on to something.

At that point Brent had never met Jonathan Lord, but he'd heard enough about Lord to know he was bad news and not someone he'd like as a human being. He hadn't met Sophie either. For some reasons their paths had never crossed in the years he and the senator had known each other.

"I'll stop by your office tomorrow at the scheduled time to see what your progress is," Brent informed him before hanging up. It was late and he was tired. Tom was in the spare bedroom and that left him with the sofa.

He glanced at it skeptically. The shape of it resembled a square box with a throw tossed over it, looking about as comfortable as a bed of nails. They hadn't made a sofa yet that could accommodate his tall frame, comfortably anyway. He glanced at the bedroom door wondering how much squealing Sophie would do if he joined her. The bed was big enough for the two of them. In the end he decided against it. Everything is peaceful now, why stir things up and risk having security return?

Besides, he was sure Sophie would make enough noise to wake the dead if she woke to find him in bed with her. Checking to make sure her door was locked he headed back to the couch, ready for a very uncomfortable night.

* * * *

Sophie waited until she was sure everyone was asleep before carefully trying the connecting bathroom door that led into the spare bedroom. Her heart was in her throat as she turned the doorknob and it actually opened. Someone didn't do their homework. With silent elation she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room before continuing.

She made out the dark outline of a dresser in one corner and a bed in the center of the room, squinting until she recognized the outline of someone sleeping on it. Instincts warned her it was Tom. Sliding her feet along the plush carpet she quickly made her way to the door, holding her breath as she opened it and praying it wouldn't make a noise. The hinges squeaked slightly but to Sophie they sounded as loud as a gunshot blast in the room, causing her to freeze in fear. Tom moaned and rolled into a sitting position, galvanizing her into action.

She was in the hallway heading toward the living room when she heard his voice question groggily, "What? Who's there?"

As soon as her gaze landed on the sofa Sophie made out Brent's tall form, realizing he'd been roused by Tom's voice. He jumped off the couch just as she dashed by. With a cry of distress she ducked beneath his outstretched arm, racing for the front door. Her fingers fumbled with the various locks. If only she could make it into the hallway. The next noise she heard was his low curse when his leg hit the corner of the coffee table, causing the items on top of it to topple over and fall to the floor noisily.

There was nothing like a good dose of fear to get the adrenaline pumping but instead of aiding her escape, it crippled her fingers, slowing her down. They were trembling so badly they were useless. Swearing softly, her lips quivered with frustration and tears filled her eyes. _Why is this happening to me?_

### Chapter 7

Brent saved his breath, knowing if he called out it would fall on deaf ears. He could hear Sophie's frantic gasps as she turned the locks one by one, deciding to pick up speed before she escaped into the hallway. Tom was supposed to check the apartment out and make sure all the necessary steps were taken to prevent something like this from happening. He caught up to her just as she turned the doorknob and opened the door, slamming it shut again just as fast. She spun around with a muffled cry of alarm.

Brent leaned in close, sucking in a harsh breath. "You lied to me, lady," he accused. Whether her hands fell to his bare chest automatically or on purpose he wasn't taking any chances. Knowing what those lethal nails were capable of, he pulled her hands down to her sides, holding them firmly against the door.

"I promised I wouldn't make any noise," she defended herself in a breathless little voice. "And I don't lie."

"Purposely omitting the truth is the same thing," he grated with irritation. She made a half-hearted effort to break away and Brent let his body relax fully against her, ignoring her sharp gasp of protest.

"Just where did you think you were going?"

"For a walk," she said without missing a beat. "Sometimes it helps me sleep."

Even in the gloom Brent could make out the defiant glitter in her eyes. "Cute," he said with disgust, trying not to notice how soft she was, or how sweet she smelled. "You get an A for being resourceful." He yawned loudly, giving his head a rough shake to clear the cobwebs.

"Get off me!" she snapped, not bothering to keep her voice down. "You won't get a penny from my father or Jonathan if you, if you touch me."

Her unexpected remark caught Brent by surprise. "Somehow I doubt that." There was a trace of laughter in his voice. "But if it was a stipulation, it just might be worth the forfeit of all those millions." _What the devil am I saying?_ Her nearness was affecting him and he took a step back.

Tom finally entered the room in a clumsy stumble, drawing to a halt when he saw them at the front door. His sigh of relief was unmistakable. "I'm sorry, Brent, it didn't occur to me to check the connecting bathroom door."

Brent didn't budge, never taking his eyes off Sophie. "Forget it, Tom, go back to bed. I have the situation under control." His stare captured and held the vulnerability he saw reflected in Sophie's eyes. He made an attempt to read what he saw but he'd never been any good at figuring women out.

"You know, I get the impression you're not the defenseless little senator's daughter you'd like everyone to believe. She would never have attempted to escape while two men were holding her captive."

"Then you're wrong," Sophie replied, injecting strength into her tone as though to prove her point. "What person in their right mind wouldn't try to get away if they were being held against their will?" She strained against his hands as though testing his strength, arching her body slightly, but that was a mistake when all it did was bring her into bodily contact with him.

She stilled instantly. "Will you please let me go back to my room?"

"You brought this on yourself, princess. All I'm doing is keeping you from leaving this apartment."

Struggling against a man wearing only boxer shorts, and snug ones at that, wasn't a very good idea. Didn't she have any inkling what she was doing? Brent clenched his teeth against the telltale signs of arousal racing through his blood. She was about to find out real soon. The fact he suspected she didn't have anything on under his shirt wasn't helping matters.

"Stop that," he ordered when she slammed her hips into his again, chipping away at his control. The next time she did it he sucked in an audible breath, becoming angry at her inability to realize what she was provoking. He thrust his hips right back at her.

Well, he'd warned her.

His senses were suddenly wired, turning him harder than stone. Unbidden thoughts of reaching beneath the hem of his shirt and trailing his fingers along the soft skin of her inner thighs clouded his judgment, making him dizzy. He tried to tell himself it was because he was exhausted and needed sleep. He closed his eyes, groaning inwardly, refusing to give in to the hunger of his body. It wouldn't take much to have her naked and beneath him.

Her helpless whimper penetrated the fog surrounding his head. With a low, frustrated noise he pulled her away from the door, squashing down the lust riding him. Nothing could happen between them. Yet he couldn't help wondering what it was about her that made him forget his resolutions about not trusting women. Given a little time, he could probably figure it out, only he was too tired to think about it right now. He pulled her behind him.

"What are you going to do?"

"Something I should have done in the first place," he grumbled, ignoring the underlining fear he detected in her soft tone. She should have thought about the consequences before breaking her promise. He dragged her through the darkened living room. With a deft flick of his wrist he unlocked her bedroom door, jerking her inside and slamming it behind them.

"No!" When it became clear they were heading straight for the bed she pulled back.

"Yes!" Brent hadn't had as much as a cat nap in the last thirty hours and he was going to get a good night sleep if it killed him, or her! "I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep you in this bed long enough for me to get some shuteye," he snapped, tossing her on it.

As she bounced upon the bed she reached for the hem of her shirt where it rode up high, but not before Brent got a glimpse of her incredibly long and sexy legs. He thought he saw a flash of black silk before she was able to yank the shirt down, answering his earlier thoughts about whether or not she was wearing anything under her gown.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp filtering through the room cast a sensual warmth that provided just the right mood for lovers, if they'd been lovers. Brent ignored it, turning to the nightstand next to the bed. If memory served him correctly, he'd placed a pair of handcuffs there for an emergency. As far as he was concerned this definitely qualified. He rummaged around until he found what he was looking for, holding them up with a wicked grin.

"You can't be serious!" Sophie gasped, her eyes growing round. "I haven't broken my promise to be quiet!"

His chuckle held little humor. "You can't be trusted. These are to ensure you keep the other half of your promise, to behave," he shot back, reaching for her wrist and clamping one end of the cuffs around it before she could pull free.

She quickly rolled away from him, forgetting he still had the other end of the cuffs. Instead of forcing her back, Brent kneeled on the bed, yanking her wrist up with the cuff around it, fully intending to secure her to the bedpost. He hesitated, his eyes staring with total disbelief before swearing a blue streak a mile long. There was no headboard. Of all the rotten luck.

He looked at Sophie, narrowing his gaze at the ill-placed humor brimming in her eyes. Her expression clearly told him she'd guessed what he'd been about to do. For a moment he forgot about everything except her beautiful face, spellbound like some gawky teenager getting his first look at a woman's breasts. The look in her lovely blue eyes asked him what he thought he was going to do next, so he calmly took the empty handcuff and clamped it around his own wrist, which promptly wiped the smug look off her face.

"You can't do that," she said when she was finally able to close her mouth again. Her eyes looked positively wild, the color on her cheeks deepening.

"I just did," he responded calmly.

"But..."

"Listen, princess, you're safe tonight. I'm too damn tired to try anything." Before she could stop him Brent made himself comfortable on the bed next to her. He forced her down beside him with a not so gentle tug, fluffing the pillow under his head and releasing a deep sigh of satisfaction. "Get some sleep; tomorrow will be here before you know it." He closed his eyes, hoping that was the end of further talk.

It was going to be hell lying next to her all night but it was a temporary solution to having to worry about her escaping. Tomorrow he'd figure out something different but right now all Brent wanted was some sleep.

Sophie mumbled something under her breath. "What was that?" In spite of being fatigued the humor was evident in his tone. "Did you say something about a goodnight kiss?"

She became rigid with indignation. "No," she bit out between her teeth.

Brent hoped the silence that followed meant she'd accepted her situation. She moved against him as though seeking a more comfortable position. If he thought he was going to get any sleep with her lying next to him all night he was crazy. He already felt the heat from their close proximity, and thanked God for the cool air of the fan overhead.

In the end it wasn't enough. As Brent resigned himself to being hot Sophie moved again, and again. What the hell was she doing? She tried to inch away from him, but their handcuffed wrists prevented her from getting very far. Once she made an attempt to roll on her side, and then gave up with a low groan. Brent grinned.

She stilled for a second. He opened one eye to peer at her, just as she reached up and began fluffing her shirt, which gave him a view of the curve of her lovely breasts.

"Will you be still?" he grumbled, more annoyed because of the desire he felt uncoiling inside his gut.

"I'm hot!" she whispered, defending herself.

"Well, if you'd stop wiggling you'd cool down. I'm hot too." Inside and out.

"I'm trying to get comfortable." She began squirming again.

Brent released a snort as she continued to twist and turn. Her fingertips inadvertently brushed against his naked thigh, sending fire straight to his loins. He tried to pretend it didn't happen, but that was like trying to imagine she wasn't a desirable woman. What he couldn't ignore was her hip brushing against his arousal.

"Damn it!" he barked, losing control.

"I'm use to sleeping on my side," she explained with annoyance.

With a deep sigh of aggravation, Brent rolled to his side, turning Sophie with him so that when they were finally settled she was in the scooped out hollow provided by his body. He put his arm around her because there was no place else to put it. She gasped at his audacity, and tried to scoot away. Only he yanked her back just as easily. "Now go to sleep!" he snarled against her ear.

She gasped and grew as stiff as a board against him. Brent could just imagine what was going through her mind. Then he was questioning his own sanity. His arousal was nestled against her soft buttocks; their bare legs were touching from thigh to ankle. His arm was beneath her breasts and his nose was buried against her fragrant hair. Everything at that moment became intensified. He willed his body under control.

Not until her soft, steady breathing indicated that she'd fallen asleep was Brent able to finally relax and give into his own exhaustion. He was still hotter than ever, but at least she wasn't squirming anymore. With a sigh of relief he closed his eyes and sank into a welcome slumber.

### Chapter 8

Morning came as early as Brent had predicted. And with it the comprehension that she hadn't been dreaming after all. She had been kidnapped and she had spent the night curled against the body of her drop-dead handsome kidnapper. What's more, he was hard as steel against her.

Sophie closed her eyes, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, unwillingly captivated by his arousal. Her last sexual encounter had been over a year ago. With a plastic surgeon who'd been more concerned with messing up his hair than seeing to her pleasure. The incident had left her so unsatisfied and disappointed that she hadn't cared if she ever had sex again.

Lying there in Brent's arms while trying to ignore the fact his sweltering kisses had been the result of self-preservation, and not because he wanted her, still made her wish foolishly that the circumstances between them were different. She knew what she was feeling was crazy.

So why can't I ignore the feel of his muscular legs brushing the back of mine, teasing me as much as any calculated caress? And the way his even breathing kisses the flesh behind my ear, causing a quiver down my entire body that leaves an empty ache. Or how protected I feel with his arm thrown over me?

There was something a little bit thrilling and dangerous about waking up in the arms of a sexy abductor. Brent's body felt hard and powerful nestled against her backside; something she hadn't noticed the night before because she'd been so frightened. When his hard flesh jumped against her she felt an answering response in the lower region of her body.

When his fingers flexed where they rested beneath her breast realization of what she was doing hit her like a ton of bricks. What she was feeling was wrong and would go nowhere. When the air conditioner kicked on she thanked God for the cool draft that suddenly caressed her feverish skin. Though with relief also came the knowledge there were places she was barely covered, if at all.

"You awake?"

Thank God! "Yes I'm awake, and I'll thank you to stop that." She purposely injected irritation in her tone. The last thing she wanted was Brent to think she enjoyed being curled up against him. She straightened away from him, as far as the handcuffs allowed.

"Stop what?" he asked innocently, his voice low and sexy. Only Sophie wasn't buying it. He knew exactly what she referred to.

She released a sound of annoyance. "You know what," she insisted, not falling for his obvious trap.

"You mean this?" He pulled Sophie back against him until her bottom was flush against him. "Does it bother you when a man shows you that he wants you?" His husky tone revealed he wasn't immune to the intimate situation.

Sophie fought down the desire racing through her blood. "You're my captor..."

"I'm a man first."

She rolled onto her back with growing alarm, her mouth trembling. She was afraid of how she'd react if he kissed her, or did anything else. "Please leave me alone."

His gaze dropped, narrowing at a spot beneath her chin. A feeling prompted Sophie into reaching up. She touched bare skin, where her shirt had parted when she'd unbuttoned it the night before in an effort to cool off. She unwillingly glanced down, her heart sinking when she saw the curves of her breasts were exposed. _And my nipples are hard!_ Is everything working against me? Her hand worked frantically at closing the material over her breasts. Suddenly his hand was there too.

"You're beautiful in the morning." His long fingers encircled her wrist firmly, pulling Sophie's hand away from her body. The look in his dark eyes unnerved her, but she couldn't look away. Spellbound like some innocent teenager experiencing her first crush. "Even with your chin stuck out in defiance and your eyes snapping with sapphire heat." He lowered his face, and Sophie had no doubts that he intended to kiss her.

"Please don't," she whispered, feeling her pulse quickening. She tried to pull free but couldn't break his hold.

"Why? What are you afraid of? Discovering something you can't handle?" he challenged.

"I can handle anything," Sophie said softly, swallowing the lie when she thought about her dilemma with Jonathan.

The silence that followed was palpable. Sophie had half a mind to close the distance between them and kiss him herself. It took conscious effort to remember what her situation was. But strangely, she didn't feel any real fear of Brent. And that was crazy, wasn't it? He'd kidnapped her, for whatever reason, but it was the threat of what he did to her peace of mind that was far more dangerous.

"I believe you," Brent finally said, rolling until he could reach the nightstand. His movement forced Sophie to shift with him. Before either of them could right the predicament, she was pulled half on top of him. She caught her breath. Brent narrowed his eyes on hers, a muscle twitching in his taut jaw. "Just like a damsel in distress," he said with unexpected bitterness. "Is this how you won Lord over?" He opened the drawer and removed a key.

Sophie's eyes grew round. "I've never slept..." She cut herself off, realizing what she was about to confess.

Worried he would be able to read the truth in her eyes, she dropped her gaze to his muscular chest. _Oh my!_ Visible in the crisp blanket of hair were the scratches she'd inflicted with her nails.

A humorless grunt escaped Brent. "Saving yourself for the big day so you can wear white? How do you think Lord would react if he found out you were in bed with another man on what's supposed to be your wedding day?"

"How would you react?" Sophie snapped right back. "I'm not here willingly. And nothing has happened."

"Complaining, princess?"

His wicked grin caused Sophie's pulse to flutter, but she ignored it. "No, actually I'm relieved." She realized her mistake as soon as the words passed through her lips.

"You know, I never back down from a challenge. And you should watch how you bait a man." He pulled her up until they were nose to nose. "Especially a hungry one."

Before Sophie could ask him what he thought he was doing, he claimed her mouth in a rough kiss. She stiffened with protest, only Brent ignored it. He continued to kiss her at his leisure, totally ignoring the fact she was struggling to get away. She tried to ignore the softness of his firm mouth, fairly alarmed that a response was slowly rising from her belly. How can that be? The answer came all too easily. His skilful mouth was seducing her, coaxing her into forgetting everything but the moment. Before Sophie knew it she was feeling way too much.

Her mouth turned soft against his, opening to the thrust of his tongue like a flower blossoming under sunshine. A whimper of surrender escaped her, echoing through the room as she eagerly sampled the warmth behind his bottom lip, beneath the velvet softness of his tongue. Their tongues battled in a dance as old as time, fueling their ardor. The passion between them became as intense as a flame to dry wood on a hot summer day, threatening to consume them if they let it.

Then, without warning, Sophie felt his hand clench in the hair at the back of her neck. He jerked her away from him as if discovering poison on her lips.

"What the hell am I doing?" For a startling moment their stares met and clung. "I'm feeding right into your hand, that's what. How many women in the history of mankind have used their feminine wiles to win a man over, just so they could destroy him?" he rasped angrily, his chest rising and falling rapidly with every breath. "This isn't part of the plan."

_Plan?_ Sophie had no idea what he was talking about. She was dazed with desire. Every nerve ending was tingling with sharp sensation. Being splayed out on top of Brent was worse than any torture she could think of. She was very much aware of her aching breasts smashed against his unyielding chest; of his warm breath heating her face while she struggled to fill her own lungs. There wasn't an inch of Brent she wasn't acutely aware of at that moment. Including his powerful erection.

"You're nothing but trouble."

"I'll thank you to remember that," Sophie told him in a chilled tone, striving for normalcy under the circumstances. Running her tongue over her swollen mouth she was surprised to discover she could taste him and the passion that had ignited between them.

"It didn't take you long to forget about Lord," Brent pointed out without hesitation. "Do you suppose he'd still want you back if he knew how eagerly you respond to the advances of another man?"

She bristled at the mention of Jonathan. He didn't know how wrong he was. Only she wasn't going to tell him that. If he knew Jonathan would want her back at any cost, in any condition, he might continue making love to her. That thought frightened her more than anything that had happened to her in the last twenty-four hours did. It terrified Sophie because for one crazy moment she had forgotten about Jonathan. She'd wanted Brent to continue. His kisses made her feel wanted and alive. Yet she knew admitting it would be her downfall.

"Are you done taking advantage of me?"

"You weren't exactly fighting me," he reminded her. "Maybe you'll learn to control your smart mouth."

Sophie hauled off and slapped him, catching them both unaware, her expression rapidly changing to shock. She'd never struck anyone in her life and considered resorting to physical violence of any kind as a weakness. She was educated enough to know what words to say that were the equivalent of any slap, only Brent's mocking attitude had pushed her beyond logical thinking. A muscle leapt in his hard jaw, followed by a stony glint in his narrowing eyes, causing her to wonder what his retaliation would be. She knew some men wouldn't hesitate to strike back.

It seemed a long time passed before he finally responded in a voice laced with steel, "Well, princess, there is fire running in your veins after all. I was beginning to wonder what it would take to get an honest reaction out of you."

"I don't know what you mean." She was still reeling over the fact he'd made her lose control.

"Yes you do. You've been so busy trying to act all prim and proper, you've forgotten what it feels like to let your emotions rule your actions. Any other woman who found herself in this situation would have fought me tooth and nail last night. You made kidnapping you too damn easy."

He was right, damn him. Pressing her lips together with angry determination she pushed against his chest trying to squirm away. However, Brent wasn't going to allow her to move until he was ready. He opened the nightstand drawer, blindly digging around for something. Within seconds Sophie was free and moving next to him on the bed. Her gaze roamed over his magnificent form as he stood, stretching as if he didn't have a care in the world.

His body made her think of a bronze statue with not an ounce of spare flesh anywhere. The short sexy boxers fit snug over his well-defined buttocks. She followed the length of his long, sturdy Viking legs. She could easily imagine him standing on the deck of a ship somewhere, his solid thighs braced against the wind.

Brent turned and caught her staring. She dropped her stare before his steady gaze, cursing the telltale heat staining her cheeks. After what just happened she wasn't in any mood to face his smirk. In fact she felt the strong impulse to slap him a second time.

"I'll be back with breakfast. In the meantime, you can shower if you like." His obvious hesitation pulled her attention back to him. "Tom fixed the connecting bathroom door so you can't go wandering."

"Thank you for the warning," she said softly, meeting the humor gleaming in his eyes.

"I have to go out for awhile, and the last thing I want is for you to be roaming freely throughout the apartment. I'm not totally convinced Tom can handle you, or your tricks. And, just so we understand each other, I rarely issue threats I'm not prepared to back up."

His warning was crystal clear, yet Sophie remained stubbornly silent. Let him draw his own conclusions!

He sighed deeply. "I don't trust that innocent look spreading across your face, so you're wasting your time. I should just gag you and tie you up so I don't have to worry about it."

Sophie didn't like the sound of that, but she remained silent. Why provoke him into carrying out his threat? At least this way she had the freedom to move about. He looked at her long and hard, as if trying to determine what he should do. Then, with a snort of disgust, he pivoted, striding to the door and leaving her without another word.

He should have followed his hunch, because Sophie had a plan of her own.

### Chapter 9

"Senator Adams, do you know how your daughter is?"

"No, I haven't spoken to Sophie since her abduction."

"Who do you think is behind this? Do you think it has anything to do with the upcoming elections? Are you..."

"Please, one question at a time," he interrupted with obvious annoyance, holding his hand up to cease the barrage of questions storming his way. "I prefer not to speculate on the reasons behind her abduction. As for your other questions, I believe Jonathan is better equipped to answer them, since the kidnappers contacted him earlier." He turned slightly to include the man standing at the podium next to him.

Jonathan Lord was impeccably dressed in an Italian silk suit that complimented the color of his eyes, which appeared to crystallize the second he knew the cameras had swung his way. Not a hair out of place, his character reeked of the superiority and self-importance he was known to possess. He stepped closer to the mike, clearing his throat for effect.

"Mr. Lord, when did you first find out the senator's daughter had been kidnapped and do you know how she is?" a reporter up front called out.

"I was first alerted by my security staff that something was amiss, when they found my fiancée's apartment door open and the place trashed," he began, putting great emphasis on Sophie's relationship to him and instantly drawing sympathy in the reporters crowding around the podium. "My worst fears were confirmed when one of the kidnappers called this morning to assure me she's alive and..."

"What are their demands for her release?" someone else called out, interrupting.

"At this time they haven't made any. However, you can rest assured, if they harm Sophie in any way..." Pausing significantly for effect, Jonathan gave the flashing cameras time to record his stricken appearance. "I'll hunt them down myself and..."

"What time did the call come in?"

The interruption caused his brows to come together in a fierce frown. "At precisely ten o'clock."

"Did they ask you not to inform the authorities?"

"If they had we wouldn't be standing here before you now," Jonathan retorted sharply, making eye contact with the reporter who'd dared to ask him that question. The reporter actually stepped back into the crowd. "Today was supposed to be our wedding day," he went on. "Sophie's my life and I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize her wellbeing."

"Senator Adams, how are you holding up, sir?"

"As well as can be expected. I have every faith that once the demands are met Sophie will be released unharmed."

"What are the facts, as you know them?" a reporter in the front row asked.

"The facts?" The senator paused, making an obvious attempt to pull himself together. "From what little we know, she was apparently kidnapped right out of her apartment last night."

"Security did a thorough search of the building, including the tenants' apartments, but turned up nothing," Jonathan continued, bringing the attention back to him. He looked directly into the camera, as though peering into Sophie's eyes. "I'll pay whatever they ask to get you back, darling. Hold onto those thoughts until you're safely back in my arms, where you belong."

As numerous cameras flashed capturing the moment, Senator Adams turned and walked away.

* * * *

Clicking off the TV, Sophie dropped the remote before walking to the big window facing the ocean side. She leaned against the frame, staring down at the glistening water without really seeing it, thinking about the news broadcast she'd just watched.

It broke her heart to think of the worry her father must be going through; not knowing where she was or if she was okay. With the exception of the day her brother died she'd never seen him let his emotions run away with him, and today hadn't been any different. He'd stood strong and composed during the brief interview, the briefest emotion simmering in his eyes.

A deep sigh escaped her as she crossed her arms. She had to think of a way out of there, or at the very least how to gain access to the phone in the living room. Her father was the only one she cared about. Jonathan had played a convincing part, but she knew he was a consummate actor, skillfully playing the situation to his advantage. To the world watching he was a deeply devoted man; one who would do anything to get back the woman he loved, but she knew the real man. As far as she was concerned Brent could hold her forever if it prevented her from marrying Jonathan.

The memory of the afternoon he'd asked her to marry him came flooding back. A scene that haunted her dreams both day and night. They'd only been dating a few weeks so his proposal had come as a complete surprise. Until that moment he'd been charming and patient, never pressing her to do anything she hadn't wanted, including sleeping with him. He'd gained her trust during those first weeks until she'd grown almost fond of him, but that was all. His rare kisses and caresses hadn't evoked any feelings in her. She'd closed the lid to the velvet box containing the engagement ring, declining his proposal with a counteroffer of her own. One she was naive enough to think would be warmly welcomed.

She repressed a shiver of repulsion as she recalled his cold reaction over her suggestion that they remain friends. She knew a man with an ego the size of Jonathan's wouldn't take rejection well, and he hadn't. Still, nothing could have prepared her for what happened next. The charming, soft-spoken man she'd come to know disappeared completely, suddenly turning into a cold-hearted monster with a cheating card up his sleeve. She could still remember the look in his emotionless eyes when he reopened the box and removed the ring, sliding it on her finger with such deadly calm that she'd stopped breathing.

In the space of a heartbeat everything she'd ever heard about Jonathan came crashing down upon her shoulders. Only by then it was too late to pay attention to the rumors and gossip columns. She'd been backed into a corner with nowhere to turn, becoming the weapon he'd use against her father. Jonathan had calmly informed her that she would marry him. Then proceeded to tell her why, almost glorying in the horror his words had produced as he informed her of the terrible secrets he'd learned about her mother. A woman she hadn't seen since the age of five.

A shudder escaped Sophie as she recalled the almost sardonic delight he'd taken in telling her that her mother was a high-priced hooker living in Europe. Even going so far as backing up his statement with explicit pictures of the woman with various men. It hadn't taken much convincing for her to realize if something like that leaked out to the public it would ruin her father.

Tears of despair choked her, clouding her vision. She hugged her arms, knowing she would do whatever it took to protect him. Yet sometimes the gravity of her situation got the better of her. She wished she had someone to turn to; someone who would know what to do. Usually that person was her father but this was one time going to him wasn't an option.

She'd had no choice but to accept Jonathan's ring in exchange for his silence, and agree to marry him. Striking a bargain with him that she'd portray the perfect fiancée in public as long as he didn't press her into sleeping with him until after their wedding. A ceremony supposed to have taken place an hour ago.

Thank God for unexpected miracles in the way of a tall, incredibly sexy man.

* * * *

Brent opened the door quietly, standing in the threshold for a moment observing Sophie, so engrossed in her own deep thoughts that she hadn't heard him enter. Her arms were crossed beneath her breasts, emphasizing their fullness. His glance traveled over her lithe form taking in the way his shirt had ridden up her shapely thighs. The soft cloud of hair around her face and shoulders had a little more curl to it, indicating she must have showered. The sun was upon it, turning it a darker, richer shade of auburn.

_How could I have ever thought a woman like her wouldn't hold any appeal to me?_ Even disheveled she was still the sexiest thing he'd seen in a long while.

As if sensing he was there, she turned her head slightly, their stares locking instantly. When Brent saw the tear tracks staining her cheeks he cursed inwardly, clenching his teeth until his jaw hurt. She must be terrified about everything happening to her. The urge to tell her the truth was so strong at that moment he knew the smartest thing he could do was drop her breakfast off and beat a fast retreat. He slammed the door behind him, taking quick steps to the small table next to the window where she was standing.

"Breakfast," he said simply, his tone less than friendly.

She hastily brushed the betraying moisture off her cheeks, quietly watching as he moved closer. Her gaze barely skimmed over the tray in his hands before wandering past him to the door. He could almost see the wheels turning inside her head as she weighed her chances for escape. Brent couldn't fault her for having a one-track mind because he'd do the same thing.

"Don't even try it," he warned, meeting the contemplation in her serious eyes. "I brought you a nice breakfast." Well, as nice as could be expected with two men in the kitchen. He hadn't remained a bachelor all this time and not learned a few domestic skills of survival.

Her gaze dropped to the food, her brows lifting with mild surprise at the eggs Benedict and bowl of fresh fruit. Real pleasure spread across her face when she spotted the cup of steaming coffee. "Thank you, you're too kind." The cool tone of her voice made a mockery out of the pleasure he saw in her eyes.

"We aim to please," Brent returned, his firm mouth turning up at the corners. There was no disguising the sound of hunger rolling in her belly. As he started to set the tray down she made her move, which he'd been expecting. "Sophie!" He slammed the tray down, everything on top rattling with his impatience. The bark of his anger only encouraged her to quicken her pace. She was almost at the door. What am I going to have to do, lock her in the closet, gagged and tied? "Damn it!" he bellowed, taking off after her.

She made it to the other side of the door before he caught up to her. He grabbed the doorknob. There was a brief tug of war, but it was a no-win situation. Brent had to outweigh her by at least a hundred pounds. Within seconds he wrenched the door from her hands with enough force to send her flying into the bedroom, and into his arms. They closed around her as her momentum carried them backward to the carpet. He landed on his back with a loud grunt. She released an indignant gasp, landing fully on top of him.

With the wind knocked out of him he was temporarily incapacitated. Sophie quickly rolled off him and attempted to crawl away on her knees. Apparently too concerned with escaping to appreciate that he'd gone out of his way to cushion her from the fall. Brent knew he had to stop her because Tom wasn't around to holler to for assistance. As he gasped for air, he reached out and caught her angle, curling his hand around the delicate bone and easily dragging her back.

"Oh!"

Brent ignored her huff and rolled, easily pinning her beneath him. His eyes narrowed down at her with annoyance. "I'm getting damn tired of this," he grumbled close to her face, pinning her wrists to the carpet with a little more force than necessary. "Unless this is the only way you figure you can get into my arms and still save face."

The rose in her cheeks elevated, revealing her emotions were close to the surface. Brent's interested gaze fell to her quivering bottom lip. It was full and soft, damp from where she'd licked it. He wondered how much protesting she'd do if he took advantage of the moment and kissed her.

Like he wanted to.

"Get off me!" she demanded, arching against him, but he thwarted her efforts to throw him off. "What kind of kidnapper are you?" She began wiggling like an eel. "You haven't even asked for a ransom! Or is it a political favor you're seeking from my father?" she continued, revealing she'd seen the news.

"All in good time, princess. If we seem too eager Lord will think he can negotiate, which means less money for us. The more time that goes by, the more he'll begin to wonder what we're doing to you. When we finally make our demands, he won't blink at the amount he'll be so eager to get you back. And you could save yourself a lot of grief, if you'd just come to terms with your predicament and wait patiently for the outcome."

"Jonathan will pay you whatever you want," she breathed, glaring up at Brent with bright eyes. "There's no reason to drag this on."

"He must love you very much." She looked sexy as sin, and just as tempting. Soft ribbons of fire were splayed out on the carpet around her, giving Brent the urge to touch it. He couldn't recall a time he'd felt an overwhelming need to touch a woman's hair. The warning signs were there. His control was slipping fast.

Sophie stilled, whether it was due to self-preservation or something he'd said, he didn't know. He became mesmerized by the deep mystery reflected in her eyes as they moved over his face, as though searching for the answer. If he didn't know better, he'd swear she didn't know what to say. "Aren't you going to answer me?"

"Yes." This time she didn't hesitate.

"And you love him," he prompted in a hard tone.

"I..." She halted, her pretty white teeth sinking down into her bottom lip.

Had she been about to divulge something? Brent watched an array of emotions cross her face, curious as to what thoughts had left that despondent look in her eyes. Hardly the look he'd expect to see in the eyes of a woman in love.

"What's going on in the pretty head of yours?" he asked, as the silence stretched between them. "Your eyes are giving you away, princess. You're hiding something."

Her mouth tightened into a firm line. "You're fishing."

He felt her begin to relax beneath him. "And you're not biting." Brent knew he should release her, only he wasn't ready to. That decision turned out to be a mistake.

Now that Sophie had stopped focusing on getting away, he became aware of how intimate their position was. How good she felt beneath him.

"Please, let me up."

Sanity returned almost instantly. The sound of her voice sliced right through the lust surging through his blood. Getting up suddenly became more important than subduing Sophie, especially when his body betrayed him by hardening. Only Brent knew he had the upper hand. "Not until you answer me." Though she gave no outward sign, he saw something flare in her eyes, suspecting the turmoil running through her. "You love him."

"I...yes!"

Her exclamation was a mixture of unwillingness and desperation. Her hesitation told Brent she was lying. He was willing to let it slide for now, knowing that sometimes patience was a virtue. "Are you thinking about him now?"

There was a challenge in his tone. He was good at pushing people into talking when they didn't want to, instinctively knowing which buttons to push. Sometimes he got lucky.

His gut told him Sophie was definitely hiding something. Nevertheless, he knew it was too good to hope that she'd come right out and tell him what. She had too much pride for that. In that respect she was a lot like the senator. And that meant her stubbornness was going to mean more trouble for him.

"I'd like to eat breakfast now," she remarked, letting him know their conversation was over.

Well, he controlled the situation, though he seemed to have forgotten that for a moment. Sophie's delicate shiver reminded him she was at his mercy. When he'd held her close during the night he'd roused several times to find her nestled against him, almost seeking contact, and he'd adjusted his position so she could get closer still. A mistake he'd paid for countless times over. Well, once again they were as close as two people could get, causing his body to react to their close proximity. He hesitated for a moment before getting to his feet and easily pulling her up with him, refusing to be taken in by the seductive scent threatening to suck him under.

"I wonder, are you an honest woman?"

Sophie made a halfhearted attempt to break away but his question obviously caught her off-guard. She halted, meeting his gaze. "What kind of question is that?" she demanded to know, her brows coming together with confusion.

"A simple question." He slowly uncurled his fingers from around her wrist, studying her expression closely. He had good instincts; in his line of work it was a commodity. "I want to know if I can trust you." _Probably about as far as I can throw her._

"Yes," was all she said, a nervous look filling her bright eyes.

Brent had to give her credit for being able to look him in the eye and lie to him, because he didn't trust her. With the exception of his mother and sister he didn't trust any woman. Still, he had to find out how far she'd go to convince him of that. "Can I trust you not to try and escape, if I let you out of this room for a little while?"

Sophie's eyes grew round with disbelief. "How can you even ask me such a thing? Do you really expect me to be honest with you?"

Brent watched her expression carefully, instincts warning him she was struggling with what to say. The way he figured it, she could tell him what she thought he wanted to hear. Or, she could be honest now and gain his trust. That would definitely work to her advantage later. Did she have the patience for that?

"I can't do that."

Her response surprised him. "Why?"

"Because I know that every time the chance presents itself I'll try and escape."

Grudging respect filled Brent. Why hadn't she taken the easy way out? He wouldn't have blamed her. He expelled a deep sigh before turning to leave. "I'll be back later. Eat your breakfast." He tossed the clipped words over his shoulder.

"What about clothes? Surely you don't expect to keep me in nothing but your shirt."

Brent opened the door, pausing in the threshold to glance back at Sophie. Her expression wasn't hard to read. If looks could kill, he'd be dead right now. A slow smile formed on his lips. Her chin raised a notch for every second his eyes raked over her scantily clad attire. He liked his shirt on her.

"Make yourself at home." He indicated the direction of the closet with a sweep of his arm. "What's mine is yours. Feel free to search for something more suitable to wear."

Instead of acknowledging his comment, she sat down at the small table, placed the paper napkin over her lap, and then waited. She didn't make eye contact with Brent again, but he had a hunch she wouldn't touch her breakfast until he was on the other side of the door and she heard the sound of the lock being turned.

### Chapter 10

"The senator's expecting you, Mr. Howard; go right in."

Brent ran an appreciative glance over the senator's secretary before walking past her desk and opening the door. Senator Adams was sitting at his desk; his head buried in a mountain of paperwork; a drink to the left of him and a plate with a half-eaten sandwich to the right. The mid-day news was on the TV in the corner but he appeared to be ignoring it.

"Help yourself to a drink before you sit down," he instructed Brent, still not looking up from what he was reading. "I'll be right with you."

It was a little early in the day but Brent decided he could use a good stiff drink. The portable bar held a little bit of everything but he reached for the scotch, pouring a generous splash into a heavy crystal glass before taking a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. He was just relaxing back when the senator gave a deep sigh, removing his glasses before tossing them down on top of the material he'd been studying. Leaning back in his chair he linked his hands behind his head and stretched, directing a narrowed gaze on Brent.

"How's my daughter holding up? She giving you any trouble?" The look in his eyes clearly revealed he was slightly amused over the prospect. He obviously didn't have a clue that Sophie was nothing but trouble.

Brent shrugged. "She's your daughter; what do you think?" Taking a sip of the best scotch money could buy; he studied the senator over the rim of his glass, thinking about the lady in question. In fact he couldn't stop thinking about her, which troubled him. She roused feelings in him he wasn't prepared to deal with. All he wanted to do was kiss that smart mouth of hers every time she opened it. Slide his tongue inside the sweet warmth behind those sharp little teeth and drive them both a little wild. Change the sass to a purr.

"Sophie's a gentile lady. Her grandmother, God rest her soul, raised her and she was from the old school. I've never known my daughter to lose her control over any situation."

_Well then, he doesn't know his daughter very well._ Brent thought about the scratches furrowing his chest, wondering what the senator would say about those. "For the most part you're right on the money." He didn't see the need in bursting the older man's bubble. "But she's shown a little spirit now and again." Unable to help the slight twitching of his lips he camouflaged it with another sip of his drink.

"You mean she's not using her womanly wiles on you to control the situation? While growing up, that little girl kept me twisted around her baby finger using such trickery. Something she picked up from her grandmother." Senator Adams paused long enough to take a sip of his drink. "My mother was a southern bell during her day and taught Sophie that a little charm goes a long way. She's used to getting what she wants."

And knew how to get it too. Brent wisely kept the thought to himself. He'd experienced a little of Sophie's womanly seductiveness but he'd yet to see the southern charm the senator was talking about, except maybe when she was playing her damsel in distress act. If Sophie tried that stuff on him she'd end up wasting her natural born talent.

"I think that's the problem, she's not getting what she wants. I bring out the worst in her." He couldn't help the little smile that spread across his chiseled lips, forgetting to disguise it this time.

The senator's eyes narrowed suddenly, giving Brent a long, hard look which quickly turned into a speculative gleam. "That little bit of news is interesting."

Worried about the glint in his eye Brent decided it was time to get down to business. He finished his drink, welcoming the raw burn that settled in his gut. At least it gave him something else to think about other than the little witch in his bedroom. "Have you found out what's going on between your daughter and Lord, if anything?" he asked, setting his glass aside.

Shaking his head negatively, the senator's mouth became tight and grim beneath his neatly trimmed mustache. "Not a damn thing so far. Jonathan's a sneaky bastard. He appears to have a lot of people in his pocket and all of them spineless cowards. Not a one willing to spill the beans on anything we can use, if they know anything. It's frustrating as hell and my team isn't getting anywhere."

Buying off your enemies was just one of the perks of being a millionaire. "Senator, if you don't mind my asking, what makes you think Sophie doesn't want to marry him?" He knew money was a powerful incentive. "Has she given you any reason to believe..."

"No!" Senator Adams snapped, leaning forward with a fierce expression on his square-boned face. "I know there's something going on here, Brent. Every time I look at her when she doesn't know I'm watching I see the way she cringes away from him when he gets too close. I see the relief in her eyes when he finally walks away. A woman in love doesn't act like that."

He took a deep breath, reaching for his glass and swallowing the contents in an angry gesture. It surprised Brent to see his hand actually shaking. He'd never known the senator to show weakness of any kind.

"The one time I questioned her about it she brushed it aside saying I was imagining things. Said there was nothing that would keep her from getting married." He snorted scornfully, reaching for a decanter and refilling his glass, some of the liquid splashing over onto his desk. "I should have asked her point blank if she loved the bastard."

Brent had seen Sophie react to Lord the same way so he knew the senator wasn't being paranoid or just an overprotective father. Leaning back in his chair, he quietly observed his old friend. His reaction was normal for a father who loved his daughter, and had qualms about her reasons for marrying a man most of the public feared and disliked. He couldn't help wondering if it went a lot deeper than that, though. Maybe the senator disliked Lord for other reasons. He sounded like he had a personal vendetta against his daughter's fiancé.

"Go ahead and say it," the senator quipped, obviously reading his mind.

Brent shrugged. "It sounds like you have more reasons for breaking up their relationship. Maybe your suspicions aren't grounded. It wouldn't be the first time someone married for money."

"My daughter isn't like that, Brent," he said, shaking his head vehemently, his brows drawn together. "Sophie has more money than she'll ever spend in her lifetime. Yet you guessed right when you said I have reasons for wanting to stop this. I know Jonathan, too. He's a ruthless, blackmailing bastard who doesn't do anything without it benefiting him in some way. I've heard stories about him for years."

Brent wondered what kind of dirt Lord had dug up on Sophie, or the senator. He searched his memory for anything he could recall hearing during the ten years they'd known each other; some tiny bit of gossip that usually had a way of surfacing when someone ran for office, whether it ended up in the news or not. However, nothing came to mind that would ruin the senator's career.

"Then maybe you'd better focus on what that something could be," Brent remarked dryly, running his hands through his dark hair. "Because if Lord's blackmailing her, it must be pretty big. And when you find out what it is you'd better be prepared to make a decision."

He knew the senator was smart enough to figure out what he meant. When the time came, his decision would probably be based on whether he wanted to continue with his political career or not. Could he sacrifice Sophie if it came to that?

The news came back on, catching Brent's attention. He turned in time to see an instant replay of an earlier broadcast about Sophie's abduction, his eyes turning hard with contempt. "I specifically told Lord not to notify the media. If this had been a real kidnapping her life wouldn't have been worth squat after this aired the first time."

A snort erupted from Senator Adams, who was also watching the news as well. "Jonathan's always been more concerned with how he looks in the public eye. He thrives in the limelight. But that doesn't make things easier for you, Brent."

"Yeah." Brent nodded regretfully, deciding there was really nothing more he could add to that. "I contacted Lord with the particulars a couple hours ago," he revealed, turning away from the TV. Lord's indignant reaction to his outrageous demands still caused him to smile.

"Don't make things too easy for him. I need more time to dig around."

"Ten million in unmarked bills to start out with. He's demanding proof that Sophie's alive and well. I'm going to send him a snapshot, which he'll never buy. He'll want something more tangible like hearing her voice on the phone. By the time we go back and forth with that you should have enough time to find what you're looking for." He prayed.

"Hopefully," Senator Adams added with a grin. "I like your plan, even if it makes you seem a little incompetent."

They both knew Brent was anything but.

"Appearances can be deceiving." Sophie's face flashed before Brent's eyes as he rose to leave. A sudden worry of what kind of mischief she'd been up to while he was gone filled his gut with dread. "I think it's time I get back." He held out his hand.

"Tell my daughter I..." The senator caught himself, rising to his feet and taking Brent's hand. "Never mind." Both men knew what he'd been about to say. "I'll expect a phone call every day at the agreed upon time."

Brent prayed the next time he phoned, the senator would have an update; like it was over and he could release Sophie. Tom was already complaining that the stress was making his ulcer act up. Moreover, he was convinced he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison. Brent hoped telling Tom to eat the chocolate gun he'd used on Sophie calmed his fears long enough to get him through this.

As he pulled into a parking spot at the apartment complex a flash of white caught his eye, causing him to glance up in time to see several pieces of paper floating to the ground. He slid from the vehicle, shielding his eyes against the sun while taking in the small plane flying overhead. The advertisement banner trailing behind it was a normal sight, some advertisement for a seafood restaurant down the road, but he didn't for one minute believe they were getting away with littering the area with flyers.

When one landed at his feet he bent, snatching it up out of curiosity.

"Son of a—" He skimmed over the handwritten note with growing trepidation. In the prettiest penmanship he'd ever seen were the words, Reward! I'm Senator Adams' daughter and I've been kidnapped! I'm being held in a seventh floor apartment in Bayside Towers!

His unease quickly grew to rage of gigantic proportions as more flyers began to float to the ground around him like falling snowflakes. Sooner or later someone else is bound to get nosey and pick one up too. He crumbled the paper in his fist, making a run for the ground elevator. As it made a slow ascent to the seventh floor his mind raced with options of what he could do, short of ringing her little neck!

* * * *

Sophie was standing at the bay window, slowly releasing more homemade flyers, when she heard Brent's angry voice in the other room, demand, "Where the hell did she get all that paper?"

She couldn't help smiling when she heard Tom repeat the same story she'd told him. "She said she wanted to write down her thoughts. That it would give her something to do, and take her mind off being cooped up. Why? What happened?"

"There are flyers all over the damn parking lot! Pack up anything personal and be ready to leave in five minutes; we can't stay here now."

Sophie could tell by Brent's voice that he was getting closer to the bedroom. The next thing she knew the door flew open and slammed against the wall. She let out a small shriek, pressing her back against the window frame. Her eyes rounded with fear as he stomped toward her. The look on his dark face convinced her that he might just toss her out the window. She quickly threw the rest of her flyers out before running to the other side of the room, and putting the bed between them.

"You've really done it now," he said between clenched teeth, his eyes glittering with cold fury. Uncurling his fisted hand, he let a paper ball drop to the floor.

Sophie's gaze watched it hit the carpet before she unwillingly met the storm simmering in Brent's predatory eyes. There was no use denying it; he'd caught her red-handed. And there was no sense in trying to run, since she knew he'd only catch her. She had no choice but to stand her ground. She took a deep breath and prepared for the worst. Yet, when Brent was within a foot of her she lost her nerve and spun around to flee.

"Not so fast!" His hand shot out, catching the collar to her shirt, effectively halting Sophie's escape before it even got started. The sound of buttons popping off and seams ripping caused her to gasp. "You're turning out to be more trouble than you're worth," he growled, jerking her backwards against him.

"You would have done the same thing!" Sophie insisted, bracing herself for his retaliation. What did he expect me to do, sit around like some helpless woman and calmly await my fate? Her father had taught her long ago that there were some things in life she could control just by simply taking command.

"You're too clever for your own damn good," he remarked, his gruff tone laced with what sounded like grudging admiration.

"I've had plenty of spare time on my hands," she replied smartly. The more time they wasted discussing it the longer the authorities had to arrive. "If I were you, I'd take off while you still have a chance."

"Don't worry about me, lady. You're the one who's going to pay the price for your little trick."

What did he mean by that? Brent spun her around; his lips thin with anger. "I'm sorry if I've ruined your plans," she said in an insincere tone. She wasn't sorry about anything.

"That's okay, I'm about to ruin yours." He gave her a shake and the breath caught in Sophie's throat when she felt the shirt slipping off her shoulders.

"There's nothing you can do that would make matters any worse," she retorted heatedly. If she didn't do something soon she would end up stark naked. As the soft fabric began to slide over her breast she made a grab for it, jerking it back into place.

Brent's gaze dropped and Sophie glanced down to see plenty of cleavage and the swell of one breast. Her gaze widened when she realized the hard little nubs outlined against the material were her nipples.

He sucked in his breath, letting his grip slacken.

"Making an escape with a half-naked woman won't go unnoticed," he grumbled angrily.

Especially one as well known as I am. She smiled, meeting the anger simmering in his eyes. "Looks like you have a problem."

"Come on." He pulled her with him to the closet. "We're getting the hell out of here."

"Where are we going?" Once inside the closet he forced her in front of him. He started looking through his clothes. "If I were you I'd let me go. You'll have a better chance of getting away." The confined space of the closet made Sophie very aware of their proximity. Brent's scent was intoxicating. The heat radiating off his body made her aware of him as a desirable man.

Growling something unintelligible beneath his breath, he continued searching through his things over the top of her head. "If I had time I'd wipe that smug expression off your face," he threatened, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

Tom chose that moment to stick his head into the room. "I'm all packed."

"Check the place over thoroughly; make sure there's nothing here that will give our identities away. Then I want you to get the hell out of here and go home. I don't want you any more involved than necessary."

"But..."

"You heard me, Tom. It's just the princess and me from here on out. The place we're heading isn't big enough for the three of us."

Sophie gave Tom a thorough inspection, committing him to memory so she could give the authorities an accurate description later on. She could tell by his expression that he was almost relieved, yet hesitant. After a moment he turned and left.

Her gaze returned to Brent to find him scowling down at her. "I think your partner's worried about his share of the ransom money," she said.

He released a tired sigh. "Believe me, if we get any ransom, he can have it all."

"What will you get?"

He was in the process of pulling a pair of sweats and a lightweight jacket off a hanger, when her question caused him to pause. "Peace and quiet," he said after a while. "And don't waste your breath giving the authorities our description later; I saw how you were looking Tom over. We'll be out of the country before you can count to ten."

Sophie was secretly relieved at his comment. She'd wondered why they hadn't kept her blindfolded, worried at what that could mean. She'd seen enough movies to know it didn't usually bode well for the kidnap victim when they saw their kidnappers' faces.

"You're awful sure of yourself."

"You think you're the first person we've kidnapped? I've been doing this a long time, princess, and they haven't caught me yet. Remember the Holland case?"

Shock and astonishment caused Sophie's breath to catch. She'd heard about the abduction. Who hadn't? For awhile it was all she heard on the news, or read about in the papers. Eunice Holland, the wife of a billionaire ship builder, had been kidnapped the year before. She was released after the ransom was paid, but to date no one knew who was behind it.

It didn't take her long to get over her initial shock.

"You don't look anything like the man's description that was circulated in the news."

His chuckle was sarcastic and the next thing Sophie knew he was pulling her out of the closet. He tossed some clothes at her. "What, you can't picture me with bleached blonde hair, a beard, and earrings in my nose and eyebrows?" He glanced past her, and Sophie followed his gaze to the open window. The sun was setting. By the time they left darkness would be on Brent's side. "Get dressed. And make it quick or I'll dress you myself."

Sophie's brows shot up at that but she wisely kept quiet. She wanted to ask Brent to turn around while she dressed, but sensed he wasn't in the mood for chivalry. Under his watchful gaze she forced herself to relax, and slipped into the clothes. "I remember hearing that seventy year-old Eunice had been treated kindly by her kidnappers." She slipped her feet into the flip-flops he provided.

He moved forward with a hat in his hands and a smile in his eyes that took her breath away. "She wasn't a young, spirited troublemaker. Pull your hair up under this."

His gaze moved over her as she did as he asked, his mouth twisting with humor when he stood back to observe the finished product. "Even in clothes three sizes too big and your hair hidden beneath a cap, you still manage to stand there looking every bit as unapproachable as you did attired in that black evening gown the other night."

Sophie wasn't about to apologize for her privileged upbringing. One of the first things she learned was that it wasn't the clothes that made a person. It was how they carried themselves. She followed Brent quietly to the door.

He paused before opening it, glancing down at her. "I trust you won't make any scenes?" Without waiting for her reply, Sophie watched him take out the gun he kept tucked in the back of his pants. A cold chill traveled down her spine, as she focused on the black revolver. He reached forward, putting a finger beneath her chin. He forced her to meet his eyes. "Ever seen anyone shot before?"

It wasn't the first time Sophie realized just how dangerous Brent was. He held her gaze for a long moment before she guessed he was satisfied with what he saw. She had no choice but to wait behind him when he swung the door open. He checked the hallway to make sure the coast was clear, before tugging her to the stairwell door. Once again Sophie found herself rushing down the stairs. It didn't take them long to reach the parking garage. She automatically looked for the security cameras as he pulled her along, realizing no one would recognize her. She had to do something to draw attention to them, and reached up with the intention of whipping off her hat.

"Keep your head down so they can't see your face!" Brent ordered, heading toward a big truck with darkly tinted windows.

Sophie did as she was told, her gaze falling on the various sheets of paper she'd flung out the window earlier. A lot of good that had done, if he'd been the only one curious enough to pick one up.

He opened the door on the driver's side, glancing around to make sure no one was observing them. "Get in."

She was practically pushed into the vehicle. As she scooted to the passenger side his hand was there to keep her from going too close to the door. With a flick of his wrist the engine roared to life. Then they were squealing into traffic, just as a barrage of police cars, with sirens blaring, raced up the circular drive to the front of the building.

Darn, that had been close! Sophie turned back to look, wishing she had the courage to throw herself from a moving vehicle, but Brent was driving like a maniac. The cruisers came to a screeching halt and doors opened simultaneously, as several policemen exited with haste. They rushed into the lobby of the building.

"A little too late," Brent remarked, gaining her attention. "Buckle up."

Too tired to argue, Sophie leaned back and did as instructed, watching the scenery go by as they raced down the coastal highway. It was past dinnertime and she was hungry, but more than that, she was scared. Being held prisoner in the apartment two doors down from hers had made her feel safe and comfortable, as ridiculous as that sounded.

Now they were on the run.

She cast a glance at Brent out of the corner of her eye. He appeared intent on watching the highway, a muscle in his lean jaw twitching with his thoughts. Her mind raced at where he was taking her.

There was only one place on earth that frightened her more then being kidnapped, and that was being on the water. Sighing, she laid her head back and closed her eyes.

What were the odds of that happening?

### Chapter 11

"Come on, princess, wake up. We're here."

Brent's voice seemed to come from far away, gradually penetrating Sophie's unconsciousness until she roused enough to open her eyes. Stretching as much as the confines of the truck allowed she yawned behind her hand, barely sparing him a glance before taking in her surroundings. Wherever they were it was pitch-dark, except for a smattering of twinkling lights directly in front of them. Beyond them appeared to be a wood fence. Eyes narrowing, she tried to determine what the lights were. Her mind burned with a memory that remained just out of reach, yet something told her she'd seen them before.

"Where are we?" Her stomach picked up the aroma of food, growling loudly, but she ignored it, more interested on what the blinking lights were in the distance. They made her think of fireflies dancing in the midnight sky.

Sophie glanced around, able to make out the dark shadows of other vehicles parked along either side of them. The faint sound of music and laughter drew her attention to the outline of a large square building off to the right. The lights filtering through the windows appeared very dim.

"Home," Brent replied, sliding out of the truck. "Come on."

As soon as her feet hit the ground, Sophie knew they were parked on gravel. Then the familiar screams of seagulls and the sound of water registered, turning her blood to ice. She glanced again at the lights, a cold shiver spreading over her when she finally recognized what they were. They were at the marina. Boats anchored further out in the harbor looked like monsters rising from the deep; their lights reflecting off the black, mirrored surface of the water. Didn't I tell Brent I'm afraid of the water? She couldn't remember. Fear held her rooted as haunting memories came rushing back, locking the breath in her throat.

God, how long had it been since that summer? When a family vacation had ended tragically, forever changing her life? The day when a nine-year-old girl witnessed the violent end to an older brother who'd meant the world to her. How and when was a child ever supposed to get over something like that?

She started to pull back when the horror of that day rushed to the surface, threatening to overwhelm her. It was the one thing in her life she'd never been able to come to terms with: surviving when Paul hadn't. The shrinks hadn't been able to help her and finally her father had stopped forcing her to go to them. She hadn't curled up inside herself as they'd predicted, but she'd never gotten over the incident either.

"No..." Brent's head snapped her way, his gaze narrowing on her. The little bit of light from the restaurant allowed her to see his hardened expression. "I can't go out there. The water..." Biting her lip, Sophie looked away, unable to finish.

"You live on the beach," Brent pointed out in a suspicious tone. "What are you trying to pull now?"

"It's a love-hate relationship," Sophie clarified, staring at the water. It looked like a black demon, getting ready to rear up its ugly head and swallow her whole. "I like living near the ocean, but I never go into the water."

"You expect me to believe that bull?" His tone bordered with disbelief. He was obviously convinced it was all an act. "You'll have to come up with a better one than that."

Sophie shook her head negatively. "It's the truth, Brent. I'll do anything you want, go with you anywhere you want. But please don't make me go out there."

"You sound sincere, but what you're telling me doesn't make any sense." Sophie followed his gaze, as he looked at something at the very end of the dock. With a sinking feeling she sensed it was his boat. There was grit in his voice when he said, "Sorry princess, you'll just have to get over it, whatever it is. You'll like The Lazy Jay. And if it helps any, we're not leaving the dockside."

For a moment they stood there in the darkness, facing each other like adversaries, neither one backing down. Instincts told Sophie that Brent wasn't going to change his mind, and she was too stubborn to try and appeal to his softer side, if he had one. After all, he was the kidnapper and he called the shots. She steeled herself as he slowly made his way around the truck toward her.

"You're not going to sway me from my one and only plan, so save that frightened, round-eyed little girl act," he said firmly. He grasped Sophie by the shoulders; she gasped, his closeness causing the oddest sensation in the lower region of her belly. Before she could tell her mind to ignore it he turned her until she faced the dock. "All you have to do is put one foot before the other."

"No!" Sophie held back, straining against his hands. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest as panic set in.

"Yes!" he said sharply in her ear, uncaring of her fears. He gave her a little shove.

Sophie spun around. "You're a bas—" She cut herself off when it dawned on her she'd been about to go too far. No telling what a man like him would do if he was insulted. He surprised her by chuckling. She wasn't fooled by his humor. Sophie bet if she made one wrong move he'd spring into action. She straightened her back and squared her shoulders, refusing to budge. There's no way I'm going willingly. _He'll have to carry me._

"Well?" His sharp tone caused her to jump a little. The unexpected glare of a car's headlight approaching the boat landing drew their attention. Brent put his hands on her, turned her, and gave her another little nudge. "Stop stalling and move it," he warned in a low growl. It was obvious he didn't want anyone to see them.

The dock appeared to jet out into the shimmering, black water for miles but Sophie knew it was just an illusion; a mean trick playing upon the fear bottled up inside her. She forced herself to breathe in slowly and deeply, working up the nerve to take the first step. Hating that Brent was witnessing a weakness she shared with no one. As her foot touched down on the first wood plank, feelings of terror every bit as sharp and vivid as it had been twenty years before cloaked her. Overwhelming anxiety threatened to weigh her down like a heavy blanket, stealing the breath from her body. Her very life if she let it.

Her heart began to pound like a drumbeat in her chest, so loud it blocked out any other noise. Time had done little in healing the pain or remembrance of that summer day. Of losing Paul in a frenzied shark attack that had gone on for what felt like forever. Tears welled in her eyes until she couldn't see. She bit down on her lip until the taste of blood filled her mouth. She was frustrated she couldn't control this one tiny memory of her life and keep it from crippling her.

She took one more step and then another, barely breathing, her unfocused vision glued to the wooden planks at her feet, trying to ignore the row of boats docked on either side of her. Once in a while she could see the glimmer of water through the split in the wood, catching her breath.

Brent finally lost patience at her snail's pace. "Come on, princess, at this rate it will be daylight by the time we reach my boat."

Holding back a sharp retort about his insensitivity she glanced up long enough to take in the boat nearest to her, wondering which one belonged to him. That one small move turned out to be her downfall because either the wharf was swaying slightly with the current or she was dizzy. Releasing a small gasp, she let her hands automatically seek the wood rail for support but it was already too late. She felt herself falling, as blackness quickly engulfed her.

### Chapter 12

The bed was moving; Sophie was sure of it. She could feel it swaying gently beneath her but was unable to comprehend the reason why. As her eyelids gradually lifted she found herself looking at her own reflection. A small sound of shock escaped her and her eyes widened. She was definitely lying on a bed; stripped down to the white shirt that barely covered her decently; her hair spread out around her as though she was posing for a picture for one of those girlie magazines. Reaching for the hem, she made a halfhearted effort to pull the material further down her naked thighs.

There was a lightweight blanket at her feet she must have kicked aside while she slept. The dimness in the room was provided by a wall lamp by the door not giving off any more light than a candle would. Somewhere close by the sound of a ticking clock broke the otherwise eerie silence. Her brows furrowed with confusion until she became alert enough to realize what she was looking into. It was a mirror on the ceiling directly above the bed. She would have never pegged Brent for that kind of man. Her feelings flip-flopped between shock and worry, and something else. Something wicked and delicious.

Instincts drew her gaze to a corner in the room; the outline of a shadow revealing she wasn't alone. She found Brent relaxing in a chair, watching her intently. He leaned forward until his features were in the light, and the unexpected concern in his eyes caused butterflies to flutter wildly in her stomach. _Am I just imagining the tenderness reflected in his dark gaze?_ He'd abducted her yet Sophie was beginning to have strong doubts about his motives. He didn't act the way she thought a kidnapper should. Though she had nothing to compare it to, intuition told her that most of the time she had nothing to fear from him. Not as a kidnaper anyway. As a man, he took her breath away.

"You get your kicks watching women sleep?" He didn't have to respond, the devilish look in his eyes did his talking for him. "And I see you're into, ah, kinky sex." She shouldn't have brought attention to the mirror on the ceiling but it was too late now, they both glanced up at their reflections.

Brent laughed, sincerely amused. "You have a lot to learn. A mirror on the ceiling doesn't imply kinky sex. Maybe just two people who enjoy watching each other making love."

His words conjured up a visual Sophie grew uncomfortably warm with. An image of the two of them, naked, entwined in sheets and making love beneath the mirror. Instant heat swept across her cheeks, which caused his smile to grow into a wolf's grin. It was as if he knew what she was thinking. Or, maybe he was thinking it himself. Sophie knew when a man wanted her, and he'd had that look in his eyes from the moment they'd met at the museum. Jonathan had that look too, only she'd never felt an ounce of desire for him.

"I just purchased the boat six months ago and haven't had a chance to spend much time on it yet. The mirror is compliments of the last owner, some fifty-six year old banker going through a midlife crisis. It's obvious by his chosen red light district décor that he was a wannabe playboy." His stare, gleaming with amusement, held hers captive. "At least he was smart enough to keep his bad taste in the bedroom."

Sophie's gaze moved about the room, taking in the mirrors and suggestive artwork, and the lighting fixtures designed to keep the atmosphere intimate.

"He even left a generous supply of condoms in the nightstand drawer next to the bed."

"Why did you buy the boat?" Sophie asked, deciding it was a much safer topic than the subject of condoms.

He shrugged. "My intentions were to take a year off and sail around the world, but things kept getting in the way."

"Kidnapping...you mean?"

His teeth flashed brightly in the gloom. "You know, I haven't even slept in this bed...yet."

Sophie felt a pleasant tingle run down the length of her spine when he ran his gaze over her. He had a lot of nerve, standing there and intimidating her with his sheer presence and that speculative gleam in his eyes. "You took my clothes off." It took a conscious effort not to look at her appearance in the mirror again.

"Not all of them," he pointed out, his gaze dropping down the front of her shirt in a lazy sweep.

Sophie reached up to find it was open. She clutched the ends together over her breasts, unable to stop the flow of arousal in her belly. Then his interest fell to her naked thighs. She glanced away from him, making the mistake of glancing up at the ceiling, which only served to fire her blood.

"How did I get here?" She hated the fact that her voice trembled, revealing her emotions.

"I carried you."

Sophie wondered if he had trouble, knowing with her height she wasn't a lightweight. "I guess I should thank you for not letting me fall into the ocean and drowning."

"It crossed my mind," he remarked in a tone she couldn't identify. He studied her thoughtfully for a moment, the interest reflected in his gaze alarming her with its intensity. "Why are you so afraid of the water?"

That was the last thing she expected him to ask. Why should he care? She lowered her gaze from his, clamping down on her bottom lip. Her eyes swelled with tears. "I can't talk about it," she whispered finally, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Talking about it might help," Brent surprised her by saying kindly. Sophie shook her head vigorously, praying he would let it drop. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he asked, "Would you like something to drink?"

She managed a choking laugh. "I'm hungry." Her teary gaze swung up to his, the double meaning behind her innocent comment obvious to them both. Thank God her growling stomach backed up what she really meant.

His masculine chuckle spread over Sophie like a ray of sunshine, leaving her skin tingling in places. "Unfortunately our dinner is feeding the fish right now. It went over the side when I dropped it to catch you. I'll see what I can round up in the galley."

Sophie clamped down on her lip to keep from crying out for him to stay. She didn't want to be left alone. It was easy forgetting where she was when he was there, keeping her mind busy. His large presence made her feel safe and protected. Panic nearly overwhelmed her the closer he moved to the door. He'd told her they weren't leaving the marina but if he'd changed his mind and they were floating out to sea somewhere right now, she didn't want to know. She was too chicken to face that possibility.

Escape seemed further away than ever. Brent couldn't have chosen a better place to ensure she wouldn't even try. She reluctantly glanced at the small porthole, which was covered with a sheer red curtain. Revealing they weren't below water level was a small comfort. He opened the door and was gone before Sophie could find her voice. She didn't waste any time rolling off the bed once he closed the door behind him. There was no way she was going to be lying there when he returned, like some frightened virgin waiting to be conquered.

She glanced around at her surroundings, noticing two other doors besides the one Brent disappeared through. After snooping around, she discovered one opened up to a tiny closet and the other to a bathroom about the same size. She paused long enough to survey her disheveled appearance in the mirror over the sink, and then reached up to run her fingers through her untamed hair.

Goodness, she hardly recognized herself. There was nothing in her reflection to indicate she was a woman of means. She fingered the hanging threads where the buttons had popped off her shirt, embarrassed to discover the dark outline of her nipples were showing right through the thin material. Maybe Brent hadn't noticed. She turned on the tap, letting the water run a few seconds before scooping some in her palms, then running it over her tear-streaked face and burning eyes. All too soon a noise from the outer room told her Brent had returned. She emerged from the bathroom hoping she looked more composed.

Her gaze fell briefly to the tray in his hands. "I suppose this is to be my new prison?" She didn't take her stare off him as he walked across the room, her mouth watering over the delicious aroma reaching her nose.

Brent didn't look at her until he made his way to the small table beneath the porthole. "For the time being." He set the tray down.

"And how long is that? How long before you get the ransom money?" Sophie slapped her hands on her hips in an unconscious challenge.

"I see your spunk has returned." He turned her way after straightening up. His gaze dropped to the front of her shirt, narrowing.

Sophie tried to ignore the gleam of interest in his eyes. "I'll give you the money myself if you'll let me go. I have plenty." When a tick appeared in his jaw and his stare didn't waver she glanced down, fully prepared to see the faint outline of her nipples through the material. What she saw was far more damaging, and revealing. The front of her shirt was wet in places; plastered against her breasts as if it'd been glued there. Her nipples were clearly visible through the material, as well as the rounded shape of her breasts. She gasped sharply and reached up to pluck the material away.

With growing panic Sophie glanced back at Brent but his expression hadn't changed. Maybe he'd fallen asleep with his eyes open or something, because he didn't so much as blink. Then, as if in slow motion, his lazy gaze swept up to meet hers. What she saw there caused her whole body to come to life.

"You're too late." His voice was low and sexy, filling Sophie's blood with fire. "Is this a new trick to get me to let down my guard?"

Acute embarrassment coupled with the feeling of helplessness ruled the biting response on her tongue. That and the need to deny the feelings he roused in her. "I'm glad one of us finds this amusing. But then, you're not the one being terrorized..."

"Terrorized!" He burst out laughing; the deep, rich sound flowing over Sophie in a sensual caress that caused her breath to catch with sharp awareness, even as it choked her with annoyance.

"Yes!" she insisted.

"You've been treated like a princess compared to most kidnap victims." His arms made a sweep of the food.

"That's not just bread and water on your plate," he said in reference to the steamed vegetables and seared salmon.

Eyebrows arching, Sophie went on recklessly, "I've been attacked..."

Eyes brimming with a mixture of desire and humor, Brent's gaze moved over her again, this time inspecting her for a different reason. "Were you hurt?"

Crossing her arms, her chin rose stubbornly. "I'm being shuffled around from place to place..."

Brent crossed his arms. "It's better than being buried alive in a wooden box with a jug of water and an air tube to keep you company."

Sophie was going to wipe that smug grin off his face if it killed her. "I've been stripped and, and, manhandled. You practically forced yourself on me."

The grin on Brent's face slowly faded as the laughter in his hooded eyes disappeared, leaving a lazy, seductive look in its place. Unexpectedly leaving her hot and weak at the knees. Sophie realized her mistake the minute the words passed through her lips. She wasn't in the habit of letting her tongue run away with her, but lately she was becoming a pro at it.

"Manhandled?" he repeated softly. "That sounds like a serious complaint."

"Yes," she insisted, unconsciously adding fuel to the fire. She didn't like the expression crossing his face, as though he was contemplating something. Maybe now was a good time to change the subject. After all, what do I really know about him? Other then his kisses turned her inside out.

He was right, damn him, he'd treated her much better than any kidnap victim had a right to expect. The things he'd done had been out of necessity, hardly causing her more than a few embarrassing moments. If she'd left well enough alone, they'd still be back in his cozy apartment, waiting for Jonathan to pay the ransom.

She took a nervous step backward. "I'm sorry; I don't usually let my tongue run away like that."

The unyielding look in his eyes revealed her apology fell on deaf ears. Her glances darted around the small room looking for an avenue of escape, finding none that didn't include going topside. For a moment she weighed what she thought was the lesser evil. By the time she made her mind up to duck into the bathroom and lock the door it was too late. Brent closed the distance between them with blinding speed.

"You're not very smart, princess. There are rules to this little game," he surprised her by saying.

"Ru-Rules?" she stammered with rounded eyes. Her pulse leapt at his nearness, which had nothing to do with being afraid.

Brent nodded slowly. "Rule number one, the kidnapper calls the shots. Whether that insults your delicate sensibilities or not doesn't matter. What he says goes, period."

"I didn't mean..."

"Rule number two, the kidnapper has the right to stuff a sock in your mouth and keep you tied to the bed if you prove difficult."

Her eyes widened even more. "But..."

"And rule number three, never insinuate that a kidnapper is lacking, in any area. You sound disappointed that all I've done so far is steal a couple kisses."

"Not hardly," she responded, her tone not sounding very convincing. She tried to step away but there was nowhere to go, since his body trapped her against the bed. "Please..." The air between them became electrically charged.

"Please?" he whispered huskily, his eyes falling to her mouth.

Sophie wasn't sure what she was asking for, only knowing his nearness caused a fire to erupt inside her belly. When he looked at her like he was now, she couldn't think past the sensuous warmth in his eyes or the desire etched his strong, hard face. Her lips parted beneath his visual caress, unexpected desire licking through her body. She tried to deny the warmth suddenly pooling between her thighs; thankful he couldn't possibly know how her body was responding to him. Praying he didn't guess. She couldn't understand it herself. Except that he radiated a vitality that drew her like a magnet.

He moved as if in slow motion, curling his arm around her waist and hauling her to him until she was flush against his aroused body. "Please?" he repeated in a soft growl, slowly lowering his head. "That sounds like an invitation, princess."

Hands automatically moving between them, Sophie was torn between pushing him away and curling her nails into his shirt to pull him closer. "What are you going to do?" she whispered, leaning back so she could look into his eyes.

Brent grinned and Sophie realized her mistake at once. His body was taut and throbbing with strong arousal. She caught her breath, meeting his gaze. His gaze made a slow-moving sweep over her face. There was no disguising the subtle changes that indicated his excitement. His erratic breathing through slightly flared nostrils, the dilated pupils of his darkening eyes.

She could even feel the fierce pounding of his heart beat. His body was like a live wire against her, the current strong and steady. Binding. At that point she wanted him more than she needed to breathe. Yet part of her struggled not to succumb to weakness.

Because this time she sensed Brent wasn't going to stop with a kiss.

### Chapter 13

"Brent..."

"Don't try that scared little girl act on me. It won't wash this time." The husky timbre of his voice left little doubt where his emotions lay. "You said you were an honest woman," he reminded her.

Brent knew he'd lost the battle when her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. He intended to kiss her and this time it wasn't to quiet her or put on a show for anyone. The hunger heating his blood was nearly paralyzing. He was hard as iron, his flesh pushing against her impatiently. It took all his strength not to show her how much he wanted her by pushing her back upon the bed and following her there.

Instead, he held on to the thin string of what self-control he had left. Wrong or right, he wanted Sophie willing. He wanted her to melt in his arms, and to hear those little purring sounds that indicated she was hot.

"I am honest," she insisted, running her tongue over her bottom lip, her eyes half closed. Her heightened color held him mesmerized.

"How honest?" he demanded, his nostrils flaring with the scent of their combined arousal. Her breasts were crushed against him; rounded softness peaked with hard little crowns digging into his chest. Demanding he notice them. He watched her throat work as she tried to swallow, denial warring with inevitability on her expression.

"Honest enough to admit I want you." Her words were low and barely audible, drawn from the very heart of her. She didn't just want him to kiss her; she wanted him. It couldn't get any plainer than that.

The passion simmering in his gut was replaced with something he was afraid to explore, an emotion frightening in its intensity. His heart rate picked up speed, every nerve ending becoming raw and exposed. There was nothing on God's green earth that was going to stop him from taking her lips. Even thoughts of prison for the next twenty-five years didn't cool his libido.

He leaned in closer, doing what he'd wanted since the first time he'd sampled that soft, snobbish mouth. The very air around them crackled with unspent energy. Brent took her mouth with an urgent hunger in a kiss not tempered with finesse or tenderness. It was basic and raw, revealing the wild need surging through his body. Sophie surprised him by matching his passion, leaning into him and whimpering softly with abandon, not showing any signs of reluctance. Her nails curled into his shirt with ardor. Her response was more than he could have hoped for.

Her moan was low and weak beneath his mouth. There was no way it could be misinterpreted as a sound of protest. Her surrender caused desire to lick through Brent like wildfire on a dry summer day. It was hot and rapid, totally out of control. Driving him to press his attack until Sophie was on the same sensual plateau as him. He wanted her just as demanding. He wanted her wild.

She opened her mouth and he slipped his tongue inside, invading the cavern to caress her tongue, explore its secrets, and taste a sweetness that matched no other. His hand left her hip and glided over her breast, slipping inside the opening of her shirt to cup her warm, naked flesh. She tore her mouth away, crying out with sharp surprise. Her flesh swelled against Brent's palm; her body trembled wildly when he purposely grazed her nipple with the rough pad of his thumb. She arched against him with a sharp gasp.

Her reaction fired the lust boiling in his blood; he thrust his hips against her seeking relief. Knowing the answer lay in her body. He tried to pull away, knowing what they were doing was wrong. The muscles in his arms flexed as he fought the mixed emotions sweeping through his shell-shocked mind. Part of him wanted to continue, the other half just as determined to end it. But nothing had ever felt so right.

Her body was alive against his, prompting Brent to caress her more boldly. He pulled her shirt up so he could touch her naked flesh, and then his hand moved to her bottom, kneading the rounded globe barely concealed by her silk panties. His exploration took him to the soft dampness between her legs. Flicking his finger across her mound seemed the natural thing to do.

"Oh!" She arched against him. Her control seemed to snap and she began her own aggressive assault. Brent didn't stand a chance when her hands smoothed over his shoulders and down his back. She raked her nails over his muscles like a cat sharpening her claws. The pain sent sharp pleasure shooting down to his groin. She pulled his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans and then her hands were smoothing over his bare torso, as though wanting to memorize what she was feeling.

Brent sucked in his breath, and groaned, as their passion grew to gigantic proportions. He felt like a rocket getting ready to launch. Sophie moved suggestively against his arousal, with a purr that was anything but satisfied. It revealed her hunger, while fueling his to uncontrollable heights. She lifted his shirt, spreading wildfire along his abdomen and chest with her soft, open mouth. Using her teeth and tongue on him in a way that drove him crazy. Words seemed unnecessary as they traveled the same path to pleasure.

Losing control, Brent gave her a little nudge and together they fell back upon the bed. Her fingers curled into his shoulders as he impatiently tugged at the buttons left on her shirt, exposing more of her skin to his marauding lips and tongue. He suckled her quivering breasts, tugging on her nipples. Rolling them with his tongue until she was arching against him with a cry. He was hungry for more, letting her know in no uncertain terms that he wanted her.

All of her!

He rolled, bringing Sophie with him until she was on top. His eyes feasted on the perfection of her full breasts with their rosy tips. For a moment their movements ceased; their gazes met and clung; they held their breaths. Then Sophie's hands went to his shirt, pulling it open without unbuttoning it. He shuddered uncontrollably when she lowered her head, reining hot little kisses along his neck and shoulders before traveling down his chest until she reached his nipples. Her hair tickled him, but stopping her didn't enter his mind when her warm, wet mouth closed over one tight protuberance. The flick of her tongue across that hardened nub rendered him powerless. He felt control slipping away.

She leaned forward, and Brent let out a strangled groan. Excitement slammed through him as he caught the reflection of her wild movements in the mirror above. He'd been meaning to have it removed. Now he was glad he hadn't gotten around to it. Seeing their reflection as they made love was far stronger than any stimulus on the market. He was entrapped in the erotic scene playing out; the excitement of watching Sophie making love to him with her hands and mouth. She kissed and nipped at his skin, while caressing him wherever she could reach.

When her hand glided over his pulsing arousal, his moved to her only undergarment. It was easy slipping his finger inside, reaching the damp heart of her and testing her readiness. Brent nearly had heart failure when Sophie's hips shot forward, giving him better access. His nostrils flared, taking in a deep breath of her arousal. With half-closed eyes, she glanced down at him, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. With one finger buried deep inside her body, his thumb manipulated the bud of her desire.

"Oh!" she said breathlessly, rocking against his finger.

Brent knew the signs. Her lovely expression said she was close to climaxing. And he was about to have his own huge explosion. Only this wasn't the way he wanted it to end. He slid his finger out, ignoring her cry of frustration. Jamming his fingers into her thick hair he pulled Sophie to him, the throbbing in his body almost too painful to endure. Every part of him was attuned to her. He wanted her in the most basic way, but first he intended to kiss her.

As their lips joined, he felt her hands smooth over his shoulders, tugging impatiently on his shirt when it got in the way. Brent felt her breasts brush against his chest, appreciating their fullness and the hard little nipples digging into his flesh where his shirt was open. Then, without warning, Sophie tugged on his bottom lip, groaning out in frustration as she yanked on his shirt again.

Smiling beneath her mouth, Brent held her close to him while he reversed their positions, once again placing Sophie beneath him. Without giving her a chance to catch her breath, he ripped her panties from her body, before smoothing his hand over her hip to her naked buttocks. She thrust her hips against his erection, nearly ending what little willpower he had left.

Sensing her distress, Brent tore away long enough to pull his shirt off and toss it to the floor, before reaching for the snap to his jeans. He took a moment to look down at Sophie, seeing the desire on her beautiful face, and amazed by it. His gaze raked over her lovely nudity with a fierce hunger, before tugging the snap open and the zipper down. Leaving them on, he lowered over her again, knowing what he was doing was a mistake. Making love to her wasn't part of the plan. It never had been. Still, he couldn't recall a time when a woman had fired him up with the need to take her no matter what the consequences.

His desire for Sophie ruled his emotions, his actions, and that was something that never happened, until now. He knew as his body touched her that he would lose his mind if he didn't make love to her in every sense of the word. His muscles flexed beneath her palms as she ran her hands over his shoulders and down his back. The little mewling sounds coming from her indicated she liked what she felt. He sucked in his breath when her hands roamed even lower, pausing when she came to the obstacle of his jeans. He wondered if she was going to let it stand in the way of what she really wanted.

He didn't have to wonder long. It didn't take much effort for her to slide her hands beneath the loosened garment and continue her sensuous journey. Brent nearly lost control with the feel of her small hand clenched into his buttocks. He pulled back, seeing the naked desire in her half-closed eyes, knowing it mirrored his own. What they were doing was madness but there was no stopping now. He was too far gone. His instincts telling him Sophie was in the same place.

"Sophie..." he growled, burying a hand in her hair and dragging her up so he could kiss her, wishing he'd taken the time to remove his pants. They were in the way now, and he was loath to leave her.

"Yes?" she gasped after gently breaking the burning kiss.

His heart pounded like a jackhammer in his chest. "You're killing me, sweetheart." The endearment slipped through his lips before he could stop it. It didn't matter. Isn't there an unwritten law somewhere that said anything goes during lovemaking?

His hands traveled from her shoulders down her back, unhesitatingly gliding over the curve of her rump and down the backs of her thighs. The intimate journey took them to dizzying new heights when his hand slipped between her thighs, letting his fingers dip teasingly into the hidden heat there.

"Brent!" she cried out.

"Yes?" he asked between kisses.

"Now who's slowly killing whom?" she questioned in a breathless little voice, accepting the hunger of his caresses with pleasurable moans.

Unexpected laughter vibrated through him, which quickly turned into a growl of need when her hand slipped into the front opening of his jeans. His answering response was a savage kiss that ended in a searing path down her neck and shoulders. Her body jerked wildly but he ignored it, soft whimpers of desire urging him to continue with his bold strokes. He wanted to take it slow but her movements demanded he put an end to the fire he'd created inside her.

Her catlike purrs pleaded with him not to stop. He did stop though, when he realized how close she was to completing the journey. He slid his hands around until he reached her buttocks, kneading and caressing her flesh until they were both a little crazy with hunger. As she rocked with shameless abandon against his hardness, it was then Brent realized he couldn't take any more.

"You have about five seconds to change your mind," he rasped, snaking his tongue out to lick at a burgeoning nipple close to his mouth. "Before I part those silken thighs and make you mine."

His hoarse words seemed to enflame her more and she caught her breath, pulling away to look at him with glazed eyes. After a heart stopping moment, she raised her face with intentions of kissing him, but his hand tangled in her hair, preventing her from reaching her destination.

"No, Sophie, I want the words," he rasped wildly, needing to know her answer without any doubts. He didn't want her throwing it back in his face later that he'd forced himself on her.

"Yes!" she gasped fiercely, slowly raising her face a second time. "I want you to make love to me," she breathed against his lips. "I want you inside me!" When her lips finally closed over his they became lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

Sounds of mutual pleasure rocked through the small cabin, and Brent knew there was no turning back. Sophie's hands were there suddenly, pulling at his pants until they were down enough to free his erection. His heart locked in his tight throat as her fingers guided him to the soft folds of her womanhood. Thrusting forward in one smooth motion, he buried himself deeply inside her womb.

"Oh my!" She arched into his possession, her cry of pure pleasure echoing throughout the cabin. "Oh!"

That one single thrust was almost Brent's undoing, as the warm yielding flesh of her body enveloped him. He paused briefly to let the feeling pass. He had more control than that, and he wasn't about to cheat them. Sophie, on the other hand, had other plans, tightening her muscles around him, urging him to move. Urging him to lose control.

He moved, slowly at first, withdrawing from her body until just the tip of his penis stroked her womanhood in a teasing sweep, before slowly gliding back home. She gasped sharply, shivering, clenching her hands into the flesh of his buttocks. However, her wildness didn't force him into yielding control. Instead, it had the opposite effect, impelling him to move even slower, drawing out each thrust as much as he dared.

"Oh God!" she cried in a voice laced with smoky heat, her head thrashing against the pillow. Her cool, haughty demeanor replaced with the blazing fire of a hungry vixen.

Continuing to tease her, Brent's stamina began to waver when he felt the telltale river of sensation igniting deep inside his body, signaling release was imminent. He began plunging harder and deeper, control escaping him as intense pleasure spurred him on. Sophie matched his passion every step of the way, moving beneath him wildly while welcoming him into her moist body. She pleaded with him to put out the fire, but he didn't need any encouragement to end the inferno between them. Her cries of release and the convulsing of her body when she climaxed sent him over the edge. Slamming his mouth down on hers, all it took was a final deep thrust and he was spilling hotly into her.

### Chapter 14

Stirring slowly, Sophie burrowed deeper beneath the covers vaguely wondering why she was naked and aching all over. As she roused more fully she became aware of other, more subtle changes in her body. Tenderness between her thighs; a lingering tingle that seemed to envelop her whole being. She felt warm; her breasts swollen and sensitive. A lengthy moan escaped her after running her hands down her body and gently probing between her thighs.

Oh God! It hadn't been a dream.

Her eyes bolted open when she realized the wetness between her legs was the end result of a passionate coupling with Brent. A deep heat raced throughout her body when it all came rushing back to her with startling clarity. How she'd responded to his caresses with shameless abandon. How she'd wanted his possession.

She unwillingly recalled how eagerly she'd wanted to give him pleasure as well. How much she'd enjoyed his hands and mouth on her. Yet instead of feeling shame for her weakness, thinking about it only aroused her all over again. Rolling to her side she came face to face with Brent, who was still asleep, his lips parted slightly as he breathed in shallow spurts. She froze, holding her breath. The early morning sunrise filtering through the semi-sheer curtains gave off enough light to make out his masculine features. He was even more handsome in a relaxed state, with his expression unguarded, and his thick hair tousled like a little boy.

She thought about their intense lovemaking. He'd seen to her needs as well as his own. Something she hadn't experienced with any other partner. Not that she'd had all that many. In contrast Brent was older than most of the men she'd dated and his experience showed; he'd been a powerful and thorough lover. She knew she'd never be able to make love with another man and not make comparisons.

Again she felt a warm glow fill her body at the image of them entwined in the throes of passion, but she couldn't afford to linger on that right now. Tearing her gaze away from his sleeping profile she looked around the cabin until her glance fell on the door that led topside. There had to be some way she could make contact with the outside world. At the very least, contact her father to assure him she was all right. It surprised her to realize she was more concerned with that then with escaping. When her gaze landed on Brent again the reason became crystal clear. She didn't want to escape at all. She wasn't an expert on kidnappings but intuition told her something wasn't right about the whole situation. Sooner or later she was going to find out what. She wasn't quite ready to believe his story about kidnapping Eunice Holland either.

Besides, escaping Brent would lead her directly into Jonathan's arms. On that thought she slowly turned away from him, scooting to the edge of the bed. She carefully reached for the first shirt she saw on the floor, slipping it on and keeping her head turned so she could watch him out of the corner of her eye. Then, holding her breath, she rose gingerly to her feet. She was certain Brent had a cellular phone somewhere on the boat. The first place she checked was the pockets of his jeans, sighing with deep disappointment when her search turned up nothing but some loose change and his truck keys. Then it occurred to her he'd hardly keep it in the bedroom where she might get her hands on it. She turned toward the narrow hallway leading to the galley.

When she was far enough away from the bedroom she hurried the rest of the way to the tiny galley, which had all the amenities of a normal kitchen only in much smaller dimensions. There was even a small nook to sit and eat in. Her gaze darted wildly around the confining space, and she jumped for joy when they landed on the small black cell phone. Dashing to the counter she snatched it up, almost dropping it while hurriedly dialing her father's private number. It bypassed his secretary's desk and right now she didn't have time to waste talking with Rita.

"Please be there!" she whispered desperately as it rang. She kept her worried gaze on the doorway praying Brent was a heavy sleeper. The tenderness and consideration she'd found in his arms didn't fool her into thinking he wouldn't be furious if he caught her jeopardizing his plans. She was about to give up when finally on the fourth ring she heard an all-too-familiar voice.

"Who is this?"

Knowing her father and his moods very well, she realized that the gruff tone of his voice indicated he was preoccupied and probably knee-deep in work. In addition, he hated interruptions. Very few people had his private number and it usually meant some kind of crisis when they used it. Sophie was only thankful he hadn't changed the number as he'd threatened to do a hundred times.

"This better be good," he warned.

"Dad, it's me!" She wasn't expecting the long pause that followed. Maybe hearing her voice caused him to go into shock. "Are you all right?" she asked with concern.

"Sophie?"

_Am I imagining the surprised hesitancy in his tone?_ "I don't have much time to explain. I..."

"How...what...how..."

He was uncharacteristically stumbling over his words but she was too preoccupied with worry that Brent would walk into the room at any second to question it. "Dad, listen, I don't know how much time I have. I just wanted to let you know that I'm okay." She turned her back to the doorway so her voice wouldn't carry.

"Well." He cleared his throat. "I'm glad to hear that, dear. I've been worried sick. Ah, where are you?" He seemed to have pulled himself together quickly. "Do you know what's going on?"

Sophie frowned at his odd question. "What do you mean? Other than I've been kidnapped, no, and I don't know where I am either except on a boat somewhere..."

She let out a startled shriek when the phone was suddenly snatched out of her hand, swinging around in time to see Brent slam it closed. He looked mad enough to kill; his sharp expression carved in granite. A muscle flicked angrily in his jaw but it was the look in his eyes, one of disappointment and regret that confused and frightened Sophie. She moistened her dry lips, suddenly wishing there were some place she could run, somewhere safe. Her hand went to her throat, nervously clutching the opened collar of her shirt.

"I-I..."

"Save it," he growled, his eyes snapping with anger. "I don't know why I thought you were any different, but deceit and trickery seems to be a common female trait. You didn't waste any time, letting me make love to you so I'd let my guard down."

Sophie's eyes rounded. She didn't know why it should matter but she didn't want Brent thinking that about her.

"That's not why I..."

"Who was that?"

Sophie hesitated. Either he hadn't heard enough to know she'd been talking to her father, or he was testing her. Maybe he wanted to see if she'd answer him honestly. Instincts told her she'd fare better if she told him the truth. It might gain her some leverage later on. "My father." She paused, taking a shaky breath. Brent kept his stare narrowed on her, frightening her with the intensity. A line of attack she was certain was meant to remind her who the boss was. "I had to let him know I was okay," she said in her defense, doubting he would understand.

She was trapped between him and the only way out. There was nowhere for her to go anyway, but she felt compelled to retreat a few steps back. In spite of being convinced he was about to dish out some kind of punishment, Sophie's gaze moved over his disheveled hair and the faint scratches lining his muscular chest. The sight reminded her of their recent lovemaking.

Her gaze returned to his mouth. His lips were pressed tight and white, revealing his irritation, yet Sophie couldn't help recalling how sensuously soft they'd been against hers. For as long as she lived she'd never forget what it felt like experiencing her first toe-curling kiss. The kind her high school friends had talked about during lunchtime, and sworn they'd all experienced. Though she instinctively knew there was no way their encounters could hold a candle to the heaven she found in Brent's strong embrace.

She felt heat spread over her body. Made worse by the way Brent's gaze shifted down her body, stripping what little she had on, off. Realizing she'd buttoned her shirt in a hurry, she reached up to make sure she was decent. Satisfied with what she found, she ran her hands through her hair.

"Who else did you call?"

"No one else," Sophie replied softly.

He arched a brow; tightening his mouth more if that were possible. "Not even Lord?"

Sophie shook her head. _He'd be the last one I'd call._

"I'm surprised he wasn't first on your list. Considering how much you love him, right?"

_About as much as I love snakes._ She held back from answering, wondering if he was testing her. Was he worried he wouldn't get as much ransom if their match weren't made because of earth-shattering love? If Brent was as money hungry as Jonathan was power hungry, they were a well-matched pair.

Without warning Brent reached for her hand, his gaze zeroing in on her bare finger. She tried to pull away. "Where's the rock?" he demanded.

"It's in the nightstand drawer back at your apartment." She tried again to pull her hand away, but he tightened his hold. For a moment there was a brief struggle as each tried to overpower the other. Sophie hissed in frustration. "Why do you care?"

He practically threw her hand back in her face. "Just why the hell are you marrying him?" He crossed his arms, arching a brow arrogantly.

Sophie didn't like the sudden look that came into Brent's eyes. She'd seen that speculative gleam in her father's eyes many times, shrewd and determined. A ruthless politician when he had to be. He would cut out the middleman quickly, when he could get the job done better and faster. She wondered what that particular look meant on Brent.

The only person who had a right to ask her such a thing was her father and so far, thank God, he hadn't. Sophie supposed she should thank her lucky stars he hadn't because lying had never come easy to her. Although now, staring into Brent's quiet watchful eyes, another one easily passed through her lips.

"I told you, I love him." The words sounded shallow and false even to her ears.

Brent snorted. "You love him? That's priceless! Is that why you made love with me? Or are you just a spoiled, rich little whor—"

She reacted without thinking, slapping him across the face as hard as she could and cutting off the ugly word he'd been about to say. Tears sprang instantly to her eyes. She didn't want him thinking that of her. She'd made love with him because there was something about him that drew her. Something she instinctively knew she'd never find again.

It felt as though a fist squeezed around her heart. Sophie turned her back to him, determined to pull herself together. Telling Brent the truth would only open up the door to more questions and she didn't want that. After all, she was the victim. What was he complaining about? He'd kidnapped her and slept with her and in the end he would get paid for it.

_Huh!_ That was rich.

She wiped angrily at the tears running down her cheeks, fighting back a sob that managed to escape anyway. The image of their lovemaking was fresh in her mind; she'd given Brent all she had to give, and it had been real.

Behind her she heard him release a low curse. "Hell, maybe I deserved that."

"That and more," she agreed without facing him, her angry tone giving her away. She'd never slapped a man before. There were times when she'd wanted to hit Jonathan but she'd refused to reveal her frustration by lashing out at him. Besides, he purposely baited her and she came out the victor by not responding.

She jumped when Brent's cell phone rang, but she didn't turn around. She glanced at a folder on the countertop. She hadn't noticed it before now. The corner of a glossy picture was clearly visible, and Sophie's curiosity got the better of her. Listening to Brent's voice in the background as he barked into the receiver, her hand dropped to the counter.

"Now's not a good time!" She heard him growl, close behind her. Too close. Then she heard the sound of his phone snapping shut. Sophie knew she had to make a grab for the picture now if she wanted to see what it was.

"Was that your partner in crime?" Her fingers inched ever closer to the corner of it.

"You might say that," he responded in a low, even tone. Suddenly she felt his hand curling around her upper arm, drawing her away from the table and toward him.

Gasping, Sophie automatically put her hands against his bare chest as if to fend him off. "Don't," she gasped, straining away from him as much as his hold would allow. The flesh beneath her palm was hot and molded like a bronze statue.

He ignored her. "You can't be trusted. I should lock you in the bathroom for your little stunt," he threatened.

Which one? Sophie assumed he was talking about the phone call. She tried to ignore the pull of his masculine scent. "You would have done the same thing," she fired back, straining away from him. "What did you expect?"

"Are we talking about the hot and heavy sex or the sneaky phone call?" He jerked her closer against him. "Less than a few hours ago you were wild in my arms, eager for my hands and mouth on you. Now your back is up, and you're acting like a frightened virgin."

"What do you think?" Her whispered words hung in the air between them. The fire in Brent's eyes fueled her anger. He had a nerve being angry; she was the one being held against her will. "This is a new experience for me. As the saying goes, I'm flying by the seat of my pants."

He raised a brow. "Really, it didn't take you very long to realize that making love with your abductor might switch things in your favor. I guess it only proves that women are alike. When all else fails, use your body to get what you want."

The urge to hit him again crossed Sophie's mind. Instead, she shrugged. "If that's what you want to think."

She could tell her lackluster response angered him. His eyes turned into volcanic glass, the hand on her arm squeezed until she gasped with mild pain. He loosened his grip immediately, but he didn't release her. "Well, then, I might as well take advantage of some free sex, while waiting for my ransom demands to be met."

Alarm raced through Sophie, because his words sparked her desire. "Take your hands off me!" she demanded, fear at the meaning behind his comment causing her heart to skip a beat. He slowly pulled her closer. She saw the hunger fill his eyes, before he glanced at her mouth. "You're not married, are you?"

Her question caught him totally off-guard and he jerked back as if she'd bit him. His gaze narrowed on her with suspicion. "No. There's no one," he replied. "Why?"

_How can I answer that without revealing I care about his answer?_ "I just wanted to know if you're a faithful man." She lowered her lashes, which was a mistake when all it did was bring his bare chest into view. The scratches her nails had inflicted were fading proof of the passion they'd shared.

"Like you're faithful to Lord?" he threw back at her.

She bristled, glaring up at him with heated emotion. "That's different." _How can I explain what I'm feeling? How could I be unfaithful to a man I don't even love?_

"Different?" Brent barked, cutting her off. "Don't you dare try and say I forced myself on you, lady," he continued in a harsh voice, his eyes impaling her.

"I wasn't about to." Sophie met his abrupt anger head on. "What I meant was..." She hesitated, wondering if she could even put into words what she meant without revealing her situation with Jonathan.

"Yes?" He gave her a little squeeze to regain her attention. "I'm very interested in your explanation."

She slowly lowered her face, realizing she'd backed herself into a corner and sensing Brent wouldn't give up. "I simply meant that some men don't think it's a big deal two-timing the women they love."

"And you think men have a monopoly on that?" Brent laughed scornfully. "I have news for you, princess; there are a lot of women out there who enjoy sex with anything they can get their hands on."

The bitterness reflected in his tone caught her unaware. She raised her gaze in time to see the shadow of deep disappointment on his expression before he had a chance to mask it. In that split second Sophie knew someone had hurt Brent deeply. "I'm sorry if someone hurt you."

"Don't feel sorry for me, princess; you're the one stuck with a cold-hearted bastard without feelings other than those south of his belt."

"Leave Jonathan out of this!" she spat without thinking. He seemed to know Jonathan so well, making her wonder if her abduction was the result of a personal vendetta rather than for financial gain.

The silence that followed was unnerving, yet Sophie couldn't look away from the piercing directness of his eyes. They delved deeply into hers, as though searching the secrets of her very soul. She wondered what she'd said or done to cause such a stony expression to settle on his face.

"I was talking about myself," he finally admitted, watching her closely.

Sophie's mouth dropped when she realized her mistake. Though by then it was too late, she couldn't take back what she'd said.

"Is that the kind of man Lord is?"

"That's none of your business. I think this conversation has gone on long enough." She felt her face grow warm beneath Brent's watchful stare. The silence that met her statement was interrupted by the hunger rolling in her belly. She tried to pull away and for a moment their bodies moved against each other intimately. Brushing up against the hard muscles in his thighs reminded her of how powerful he was.

She knew she was fighting a losing battle and it didn't take much for Brent to subdue her by bringing her arms around her back, pinning them there with his large hands. She bit down on her lip, hoping to hold the tears of frustration at bay. "I'm hungry." Sophie prayed he thought her trembling was out of fear, and not the renewed desire flowing through her traitorous body. Her watery gaze swung up to his.

The smoldering look in Brent's eyes brought a whole new meaning to the word hunger. "I'm hungry too." Sophie sensed it wasn't for food. He surprised her by releasing her. "I think you'd better remember what the situation is and go back to the bedroom. Making love with me gained you nothing."

For a moment she thought about ignoring his comment. His gaze remained glued to hers, silently demanding that she do his bidding. If she thought she could win the battle, she'd defy him. Only Sophie knew if she pushed Brent into putting his hands on her again it would lead to a repeat of what they'd shared in the bedroom. And that would be a dangerous road to travel again.

She tossed her hair, sending the thick mane behind her shoulders. At that moment she saw her reflection in Brent's eyes. Saw how vulnerable she looked, how frightened, yet strong, and determined. Is that what he saw, too?

"I admire your spirit, princess. But now isn't the time to test me."

Sophie stood her ground another moment before turning and walking calmly away. Before she revealed how spirited she was and kissed him.

### Chapter 15

Brent stepped into the doorway to watch Sophie walk down the narrow hallway to the bedroom. It crossed his mind that she really was afraid of the water, but he wasn't ready to trust her. She'd proven more resourceful than her father led him to believe, and he wasn't about to take her for granted again. He thought about their conversation. He'd wanted to push her into anger so she'd slip up and reveal something about Lord. Well, she was angry now, and crying too if the sniffling he heard was anything to go on.

His mouth twisted into a tight grimace. He was a bastard, especially for accusing her of sleeping with him for her own gains. Waking and finding her gone had led him to draw his own conclusions. He'd tried to convince himself that she was just another Connie, spoiled, rotten and used to getting what she wanted, no matter whom she hurt along the way. Not averse to using her body to wear a man down.

Connie had done that, after sucking him in so deep that he hadn't seen the signals until the damage had been done. Her seductive sophistication had clouded his judgment. She'd taken in his family too. It had been tough dumping a woman everyone loved, but that was his fault for not telling them the truth. It had been easier letting them believe he just wasn't ready to settle down yet.

As Sophie disappeared into the bedroom Brent realized no matter how much he compared them, he knew in his gut she was different. Instincts told him she'd never sink so low as to sleep with a man to get what she wanted from him. Finding her on the phone had angered and disappointed him. He'd been too rough on her, but for a reason. A real kidnapper wouldn't give a damn whether he hurt his victim or not.

His cellular rang, severing the silence. Brent flipped it open, brought it to his ear, and turned from the doorway. "Yeah?"

"What the hell is going on?"

Recognizing the senator's aggravated voice caused his mouth to lift with humor. He'd been expecting his call back, and was a little surprised it had taken him this long. Senator Adams didn't like surprises; he liked things mapped out and to go according to plan. "Everything's under control." He didn't bother to elaborate.

"Is it? I almost had heart failure when I heard Sophie's voice. How the hell did she get the phone away from you?"

Brent chose to ignore that question. "Don't worry, she's alive and kicking. Have any news for me?"

"Not yet. Whatever Lord has he had to dig deep. Sophie let it slip she's on a boat somewhere. Would that be yours?"

"Yep." Brent thought about her fear when she first realized where he'd brought her. He was beginning to hate what they were doing to her. She wasn't exactly terrified of her situation, as she had been in the beginning, and he was very curious as to why.

"Dear God, Brent. It didn't occur to me that you would ever take her out on your boat. Sophie's been terrified of the water ever since she was a kid. She witnessed a shark attack on her brother..."

Brent vaguely listened to the senator, his gaze falling to the folder resting on the edge of the small table. It contained a snapshot of her, which the senator had included, in a dossier he'd given him of her scheduled whereabouts for the current week. His lips twitched when he recalled how close she'd been to finding out the truth. He would have been hard pressed explaining how he came to have a personal picture of her and the senator in his possession. He shook his head and forced himself to focus on what the senator was saying.

"I'll call you again tomorrow. With a little luck I'll have something concrete so we can put an end to this. I want Sophie home again, where she belongs."

"Tomorrow, then." With a quick flick of his wrist, the phone snapped closed and Brent laid it down on the counter next to him.

He took a deep breath, thinking about the lady in question. He was going to hurt Sophie, before she hurt him. After Connie, he'd made a promise to himself not to let another woman get too close. No matter how well packaged she came, or how much he wanted her. Over the years, more than one had taught him to guard his heart and watch his wallet. Hell, maybe he just got involved with the wrong women, but being burned by one he actually had feelings for, had hardened his heart and fortified his decision that other than a good romp in bed, he didn't need them.

Something about Sophie warned him he was already too involved with her. He must be if he was worrying about her feelings. He couldn't get the thought of making love to her out of his head, couldn't get her warm, sensual scent off him. He glanced down, and realized he was wearing the shirt he'd given her back at the apartment. She had mistakenly grabbed the wrong one before leaving the bedroom earlier.

His mouth quirked with wry humor as he poured himself a cup of lukewarm coffee. He sipped at it, and pulled the curtain aside to glance out at the dock. It was quiet for a Saturday morning. The gray clouds gathering in the sky told him why. A storm was brewing. Brent could hear an occasional noise from the combination restaurant/bait shop located next to the pier, but it was the noise he didn't hear coming from the bedroom that worried him the most.

He wondered what Sophie was up to, deciding he'd better check on her. He found her curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to her breast as though it were a cherished stuffed toy. His heart constricted at the vulnerability etched on her beautiful face. He examined her appearance, taking in the deep shadows beneath her eyes and the paleness of her skin. Her breathing was shallow, little puffs of air passing through her slightly parted lips, as she rested peacefully.

His shirt was creased badly and stained with coffee. Her hair looked like rats had been nesting in it. Then right before his eyes she reached up and combed her fingers through it, twisting her body as though looking for a more comfortable position, exposing more of her long, shapely legs to his searching eyes. He couldn't help recalling how silky, and soft they'd felt beneath his caresses. Then her soft mewling sounds caused his gaze to shift to her mouth.

It seemed like a lifetime ago since he'd kissed that defiant mouth. The impact throwing him for a loop he still hadn't fully recovered from. The visible softness about her belied the fact she was full of spirit. There was nothing innocent about her. Even in sleep, she managed to entice and tease his senses until he wanted to lie down beside her and hold her.

Who am I kidding? I want to make love to her until we're both so exhausted we can't move.

A flashback of their intense lovemaking forced him to reach for the blanket and cover her, before he turned to leave the room without a backward glance. As he made his way back toward the galley, the boat rocked wildly, a sign the storm had finally broken through. All at once the rain began pounding down on them like machine gun fire, and Brent realized it was hale. A particular loud boom of thunder was followed by a loud, frightened shriek from the bedroom.

Brent pivoted sharply, and nearly collided with Sophie. "What's wrong?" Seeing her pale expression and wild eyes, he glanced behind her, expecting to see demons chasing her.

She halted briefly, as though undecided what to do before throwing herself at him. "I'm scared!" The boat slammed against the dock and she lost her balance and her tenuous grip on him. She bounced back and forth between the walls in the narrow passageway, before Brent drew her safely into his arms. "Are we safe here?"

"Safe enough. Come on; let's get you off your feet. You obviously didn't bring your sea legs with you," he teased, guiding her toward the kitchen. Brent didn't have any trouble with his sea legs. He balanced himself easily against the swaying boat. Only once was he caught unaware, but only because he was trying to keep them both from flying around.

"Would we be safer in bed?"

The boat tipped slightly and Brent slammed back against the wall. Since his arms were around Sophie, she slammed into him. Suddenly they were flush against each other and looking into each other's eyes. "Is that an invitation?" he asked; his mouth slanting into a grin. _God, she makes me hungry._

In the gloom, he could see the mixture of fright and mild amusement swimming in her eyes. It was obvious she was trying not to give in and smile in return. But the longer they stared at each other, the more it didn't seem funny anymore. The swaying boat only served to make them roll against each other, heightening their growing awareness of one another. The recently banked fires sprang to life.

Building the desire.

Lust surged through Brent's blood. The breath hissed from his lungs. He was very much aware of Sophie's breasts against his chest, swelling like he was against the lower half of her body. The boat sank to one side on a rolling wave and he spread his legs to steady himself against the wall. The action caused Sophie to roll further into the intimate cradle of his hips, against the hardness pushing against his zipper. He wondered if she had any idea how badly he wanted her at that moment.

The boat continued to dance wildly, beating mercilessly against the dock. "Brent, I'm scared!" she whispered, as the storm grew fiercer.

The frightened appeal in her eyes was very real and unnerved Brent. She was beyond scared. Wide-eyed with fright, she was shaking like a wet kitten. Maybe the safest place was in bed. He swore harshly when a violent wave sent him flying to the other side of the hall. His hands braced against the wall just in time to keep from crushing her. Her cry of alarm tore at his heart. When there was a brief lull, he grabbed her and turned her toward the bedroom.

He didn't need to tell her to get into bed. She practically fell upon it, rolling to the side to make room for him. Brent hadn't planned on joining her, grinning. He'd been on a boat in a storm before, and knew how to handle himself. Yet the frightened look on Sophie's pale face persuaded him to do her silent pleading.

What harm was there in offering her a little bit of comfort? He fell in next to her, and the next thing Brent knew she was curled up against him, holding on for dear life. It was then he recalled what the senator had said about her fear of the water. His arms automatically encircled her slender, trembling form, holding her tightly while wishing he could make her fears go away.

"You're safe," he murmured into her ear, tenderly brushing the hair back from her face. His belly did a somersault when she glanced up at him, her eyes brimming softly with gratitude, in a face the color of white chalk. "You're not going to be sick, are you?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"You're just worried about your shirt."

His brows rose with surprise at her humor. He wished he could focus on that, and forget about her as a woman. Having Sophie plastered against him wasn't doing much for his self-control. The steady rocking of the boat only added to the situation, keeping them moving constantly into each other no matter how hard he tried to instill distance.

A particularly loud rumble of thunder drew a muffled cry from her. She buried her face against him, tightening her hands in his loose shirt. He wished he had the power to make the storm go away. Another crash followed a crack of angry lightning. "Brent!" she cried, moving against him as though willing his body to absorb hers. "Do something!"

_Do something?_ He actually thought about it for a moment before realizing it was stupid. He tightened his arms around her before doing the only thing he could think of that might take her mind off the raging elements outside. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he pulled her head back, and slammed his mouth down on hers.

At first, she stiffened, until Brent's kiss coaxed her into relaxing. As she opened her mouth beneath his, he purposely softened his kiss into a sensual attack, slipping his tongue inside to mate with hers. Over the thunder, he heard her low moan of hunger. She brought her arms up to encircle his neck, straining closer to his body. His hand slowly unclenched from her hair, and glided down her throat to her breast, a growl escaping him when Sophie arched into his caress.

He shuddered with renewed arousal as her breasts swelled within the palms of his hands. In less then a heartbeat, he grew weak, willingly accepting the ruthless passion spiraling through him. Knowing it was wrong but feeling it was so right. Sophie made him want too much, too fast. She made him forget about everything but her. In a mindless moment, Brent pushed her shirt out of the way and put his mouth on her breast, rolling her turgid nipple around the tip of his tongue. Sophie arched wildly and cried out, offering him whatever he wanted. Her hands roamed over him at will.

What the hell was he doing? Brent knew he needed to find the strength to pull away. His fingers curled around the delicate bones of her wrists and he pinned her to the bed, pulling back to look down at her. Eyes clinging, their harsh breathing echoed through the small cabin, heard well above the noise of the rain. She was thrusting against him, her need mirroring his own.

"Tell me again that you love Jonathan Lord," he demanded softly. "A woman doesn't kiss like that if she's in love with another man."

Her expression showed surprise. "Is that why you kissed me? So I'd let down my guard?" Her soft, slightly disappointed words reminded Brent of how he'd felt earlier, when he thought she'd used her body to do the same thing. "You don't think a woman can love one man and still want to make love to another?"

Oh, it was more than possible. But he didn't want to believe it. He narrowed his eyes on her lovely, flushed face, trying to read the truth. "Are you that kind of woman, Sophie?" She glanced away, only he wasn't about to let her get away with that. Gripping her chin, Brent forced her to look at him. "Are you?" His tone was harsh.

"Yes."

"You're lying." Brent's instincts told him what she wouldn't admit to. Acid churned in his gut that a man like Lord had such a strong hold on her that she was willing to sell herself. However, it was the thought that Sophie might be telling him the truth that made a knot twist in his gut. "What has he got on you?" he demanded angrily. Maybe she would tell him what her father couldn't get out of her.

Her eyes widened with alarm, his words obviously hitting close to home. "What d-do you me-mean?" she asked in a broken whisper. "I lo—"

"There are plenty of signs that indicate to me that you don't love Lord. A woman in love doesn't remove the man's ring and leave it behind. A woman in love wouldn't think of betraying him by making love with another man." He had little to base that observation on except for his mother and sister. "And don't think I didn't notice you cringe the other night at the museum when Lord kissed your shoulder."

"I don't know what you mean!" Her voice was shaking, and she tried to push him away from her. "You were imagining things!"

"Don't insult me by the innocent act. Why don't you try telling the truth for a change?" Before he lost control and shook some sense into her, he released her and rolled off the bed.

Once he was on his feet, he swung around. He narrowed his gaze on her pale face with the thought that if he pushed her into spilling the truth, he would be able to contact Senator Adams and put an end to the whole damn mess. It was risky, but Brent decided to take it. Besides, what do I have to lose?

"Just who are you protecting, princess, yourself or your father?"

She caught her breath, her eyes widening into round saucers. All she could do was lay there and roll helplessly with the movements of the boat. "You're crazy!" she finally replied.

"Am I?" There was no disguising the fear in her eyes, or the desperation in her tone. Brent instinctively knew he was getting close and that she knew it and was terrified of it. What the hell was she hiding? "Why are you so afraid, then?"

"Wouldn't you be? I've been kid—"

"Don't try and change the subject," he cut in ruthlessly, even while realizing he had to be careful. If Sophie figured out he wasn't what he appeared to be she'd have the upper hand, and he wasn't about to let that happen.

"What kind of kidnapper are you?" she asked, her tone changing to suspicion.

Brent had to think fast. "The kind who wants to make sure he's asking the right man for the ransom money. I don't want to waste my time with Lord if he doesn't love you as much as you claim to love him."

She glanced away, her fingers clenching into the covers beneath her to keep from rolling. "He wants me," she said softly.

Didn't she realize what she just revealed? "I want you too, but let's not confuse lust with love." Brent looked at her long and hard. _Who am I kidding? I'm already half in love with her._

In spite of all his misgivings and sour experiences with the opposite sex, he knew Sophie was different. His gut told him when she loved someone she would do anything for them, including protecting them by sacrificing herself.

The sadness in her gaze tore at his heartstrings. He wanted to take her into his arms and tell her everything would be all right. That he would make it all right. Yet how can I do that if I don't know what to protect her from? He hoped to hell that the senator was having better luck at his end. Brent wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up the lie. His cellular began to ring, putting an end to any further discussion. As he reached to retrieve it from his back pocket, Sophie quickly slipped beneath the blanket.

"Yeah?" His stare remained on her, holding her gaze.

"It's me! We have a problem!" Tom's excited tone was hushed as if he was afraid someone would overhear him. "Get out of there! Senator Adams' lines have a tap on them. Our..."

"What?" Brent barked into the receiver with disbelief.

"We don't know when but a tap was placed on his line to monitor all incoming calls, in case the kidnapper contacted him instead of Lord. I just received a call from the senator's office. He wasn't even aware of it."

Of course he wasn't aware of it. Why would he knowingly agree to put a tap on his phone when he already knew his daughter was safe with me? It had to be Lord, the bastard! I underestimated the man. All at once, Brent realized Tom was talking a mile a minute and he hadn't heard a single word.

"...from the boat?"

"Repeat," Brent said between his teeth, in a tone that left little doubt to anyone who heard it that he was furious. Sophie looked ready to bolt, if the alarm filling her eyes was any indication.

"I asked if you made any calls from the boat."

He hadn't but Sophie had. "Damn it!" he stormed, his lips thinning with anger. The force of his seething reply caused Sophie to jump. If Tom asked him that, then he obviously knew the answer, which also meant Lord was on to him.

"What's the plan now?" Tom questioned. "I say it's over! We let Miss Adams go and return to the office, and pretend nothing's happened."

Tom's plan of surrender didn't surprise Brent. He probably thought it would be as easy as that, too. "The plan is we're getting the hell off this boat," Brent grated with exasperation. "I'll contact you later with the details."

He flipped the phone shut and crammed it in his back pocket. He estimated a good hour had gone by since she'd called her father, and he knew the only thing saving them from being overtaken by the cops was Lord's ego. He was the kind of man who would want to handle things his own way, with his own people. _Which probably means I'm a dead man. Hell!_ His mouth thinned with displeasure. _What a mess!_

"Come on, princess, we have to get the hell off this boat before lover boy shows up with the cavalry." The last thing he wanted was for her to be caught up in any gunfire.

Her eyes rounded as she took in the news. "The police are on their way?" She had no choice but to let him pull her off the bed. "How..."

"It appears when you phoned daddy, the call was traced." Brent caught her when the boat suddenly swayed. In the blink of an eye her light fragrance, her soft body and a need so strong it threatened to consume him, engulfed his already weakened senses. That sharp, unwelcome sensation was almost enough to make him into throw caution to the wind and toss her back upon the bed. He took a moment to gain control of his wits, pretending to steady her before setting her away from him.

"Hurry up and get dressed."

He didn't bother looking around for anything that might give his identity away. He figured it was too late for that. By now, Lord knew who he was, and where to find them. A sense of urgency made the adrenaline rush through his blood like a torrid river. While Sophie dressed, he went topside to see what, if anything, was going on. Mostly anglers used the dock on weekends and in this kind of weather, it was deserted. However, that didn't mean that someone would not be returning from a fishing trip cut short.

As soon as he stepped on deck, he was drenched in the downpour. It looked like early evening, although it was the afternoon. The skyline was dark, and the clouds overhead resembled dirty snow banks. As Brent's gaze took in the area, he whistled a sound of relief that no one was around.

Hoping his luck continued, he turned to go back below, surprised to find Sophie patiently waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. For as long as he lived, he would never forget the look of regret in those sapphire eyes.

She was wringing her hands. "I can't..." He could barely make out her softly spoken words. She seemed frozen in place, and Brent doubted there was anything he could do about it.

He knew her fear was going to cost them valuable time. "Sure you can, princess, just put one foot before the other and climb," he coaxed gently. He could see she was already shaking her head no. "Trust me, sweetheart," he added softly.

### Chapter 16

Sophie hesitated; mesmerized by the patient sound of Brent's voice in spite of the fact rain was beating down on him. Why should I trust him? The answer was as clear as the unexpected tenderness she saw in his eagle sharp eyes. He was protecting her from something. _Why didn't I see him for what he was from the start?_ Intuition warned her she had nothing to fear from Brent and never had.

"I trust you," she breathed softly, still not taking the first step that would bring her topside.

Featherlike laugh lines crinkled around his eyes, and his face broke into an encouraging grin as he held his hand down to her, blinking back the rain. "Keep looking at me and take it one step at a time."

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she took the first step, doing as he instructed and keeping her stare glued to his. With each step she took closer to the top, she could feel the spray of rain and smell the ocean air. By the time she placed her hand in his, she half expected him to haul her the rest of the way out. Surprised when he didn't. He let her make the journey at her own speed. Within seconds she became as drenched as he was.

"Ready?"

No! Still, she nodded anyway. Before she knew it she was standing on deck and in his arms. She buried her face against him, refusing to look at her surroundings, trembling uncontrollably.

"I've got you. I won't let you go, I promise." His arms closed tightly around her, crushing her against the length of him.

She released a weak, nervous laugh. "You've got me this far but how are you going to get me off this pier and to the truck?"

"Got it covered," he said confidently, scanning the area. Other than an old man standing in the threshold of the bait shop watching them, all was quiet.

Before she realized what he was thinking, she was caught up in his strong arms, and he was striding down the unsteady wharf as if she weighed no more than a child. Keeping her eyes tightly shut, she turned her face against his chest, holding her breath until she heard the sound of gravel crunching beneath his feet. She peered up at him with gratitude, glancing at his strong jawbone, mesmerized by his strength, and caring.

He glanced down, catching her looking at him. "You can put me down now."

Without comment he released her, allowing her to glide down the front of him, the tips of her breasts grazing his hard chest until her feet were planted firmly on the ground. She gasped when his hands settled on her hips, holding her against him. What did he think he was doing? She raised her face to his, blinking back the falling rain; her tongue darted out to catch the warm moisture. The way he was watching her caused her breath to catch. She was woman enough to recognize the brief flare of desire in his eyes before he banked the fire.

"Thank you," she murmured, feeling unaccustomedly shy.

"Any time, princess. Now we need to get out of here." Just as he opened the truck door, his cell phone began to ring. "What the hell is it now?" He mumbled beneath his breath. He snatched it from his pocket and flipped it open.

"Yeah?" His expression tightened and a hand fell upon Sophie's shoulder, keeping her close to him. "Hello, Lord."

_Jonathan!_ Sophie's heart sank when she realized he was on the phone. Her gaze searched the area with worry, expecting to see him materialize from a location nearby.

"How did you track us down? I'm usually pretty good about covering my trail."

Sophie was close enough to hear Jonathan's end of the conversation.

"That's not important. It's just a matter of time before we catch up with you. I suggest you release my fiancée and disappear, because your life's over."

Sophie's gaze met Brent's. The threat in Jonathan's tone caused a ripple of fear to travel down her spine. He winked at her, but it did nothing to dissolve the alarm churning in her belly.

"What, no trial by my peers?"

Jonathan snorted disdainfully. "You won't live long enough for the cops, or anyone else to bring you in," he threatened in a deadly tone. "I'll become a hero overnight, killing you and rescuing Sophie. I imagine after that the senator will grant me whatever I want."

"I've noticed you haven't asked how Sophie is holding up. You certainly have your priorities straight."

"Don't let my lack of concern disturb you, Howard. If you've touched her, I'll take great pleasure in seeing you suffer before my men finish with you."

"Really? I'm surprised you're threatening me while I still have Sophie as my guest."

Sophie wondered if Brent realized his hand had smoothed down her back, as though to comfort her. It came to rest on the curve of her bottom, caressing her lightly. She couldn't help it. His touch made her yearn for more.

"You're not going to kill her," Jonathan said confidently.

"You're right, killing women is for cowards." Sophie stepped closer to Brent's hard length, seeking the protection she sensed she'd find in his arms. "Your beautiful lady is worth the forfeit of ten million dollars," he continued, surprising Sophie. Her gaze sought his, only he was scanning the area again. Didn't he realize he was taunting Jonathan? "Of course, she might be a little used up by the time I get around to releasing her." He seemed to take perverse pleasure in baiting Jonathan.

Her mind drifted back to the bed. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why it was rumpled and torn apart.

"You're a dead man," Sophie heard Jonathan grate in a low, savage tone. She shivered wildly at his tone, fully believing he meant what he said.

Brent snorted, obviously not worried. "So you've said." He snapped the phone shut without another word.

"Jonathan knows who you are, now. You can expect your picture and name to be plastered on the evening news," Sophie commented, blinking against the rain, which had turned into a light drizzle.

"You don't know your fiancé, if you think he's interested in letting the police do their job. A man like him takes it very personal when someone kidnaps his woman. Sleeping with you signed my death warrant."

"You don't look very concerned, and why did you insinuate something like that?"

His sharp laughter caught her by surprise. "You don't understand how a man's mind works. Once he's on the boat, lover boy will know soon enough that I've had you. A blind man would be able to pick up the scent of the sexual encounter we shared on that bed."

Sophie knew the heat crawling up her neck was a sign of embarrassment. She started to pull away to slide into the truck. "I'm glad you're not worried about it, but have you thought what it could mean for me?"

"What do you mean?" Brent's hand prevented her from getting into the truck. "Lord won't hurt you." His eyes bore deeply into hers, as though searching for reassurance.

"Jonathan doesn't have to touch me to hurt me," she confessed softly, before realizing her mistake. She lowered her gaze.

I can't hide the truth from Brent much longer. He's too smart for that. Sooner or later he's going to figure out how much I hate Jonathan.

And how much I love him.

### Chapter 17

Brent was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. For the hundredth time he glanced at Sophie, as she sat staring out the window. She looked soft, defenseless, and he wanted to pull over to the side of the road and take her into his arms.

How am I going to find the strength to let her go when the time comes? I want her and not just her body. Only thirty-one isn't a time to start thinking about changing my life. I like my freedom. Without responsibilities I can pick up and go when I want, and not worry about messy things like a wife and kids. Besides, we're worlds apart.

Yet he couldn't help wondering what it would be like spending his life with her, loving her every day, and every night. It dawned on him that he'd let his guard down, allowing her to crawl under his skin and dig her way to his heart. He was getting tired of all the lies. His friendship and loyalty to the senator prevented him from breaking a confidence. He hoped in another day or two he could release her and get on with his life, but for now they had to remain one step ahead of Lord.

The wind was picking up; he could feel it against his truck. He checked out the rain clouds building in the sky again. Why hadn't he noticed how much darker it had turned? The answer came all too easily, because he was enamored with a bewitching redhead with blue eyes. In spite of her disheveled appearance and the trouble she caused, he found Sophie refreshing. She was a strange mix; her haughty sometimes innocent demeanor amused and challenged him, while the she-cat in her during their heated confrontations satisfied the male animal in him.

Including satisfying me in bed.

His thoughts drifted back to the boat, and their intense lovemaking. He'd taken her twice, in rapid succession, after the first time. And Sophie had matched him every step of the way. In fact, she'd initiated the third time, nearly driving him mad with her skillful hands and mouth. He'll never forget the shock of her mouth on him, loving him to completion. She'd proven that even a sophisticated lady could let down her hair in the bedroom.

And enjoy it.

He gave his head a vigorous shake. He could daydream about her all he wanted, but some other time. Right now they needed to get as far away from there as possible.

* * * *

"What makes a man like you turn to kidnapping?" Sophie asked out of the blue about an hour after they'd left the marina. "You appear to be well-educated and intelligent; you carry yourself as though you're used to the good things in life."

"What makes a beautiful, well-educated woman like you turn to the likes of Jonathan Lord?" he tossed right back, watching her eyes flare with surprise. Before giving her the chance, he answered for both of them. "Money, princess. Plain and simple."

She didn't bother denying it. "What will you do after you get it? Where will you go?"

"I have plans," he replied, thinking about taking his boat to the other side of the world. Will that be far enough away to forget her? "A criminal on the run can't afford to divulge his escape plans. What about you?"

She sighed heavily, as though resigned to circumstances beyond her control. "I suppose we'll marry as soon as possible."

"And live happily ever after?" She hesitated for so long he demanded, "Tell me the truth, Sophie, it's plain to see you're not exactly thrilled over marrying him. Whatever it is, get it off your chest. Talking helps and might make you feel a hell of a lot better." For a moment she looked startled, like wondering why he was saying such things.

"The truth? So, you're a counselor now?" The vulnerability in her eyes tore at Brent's heart. "A jack-of-all-trades?" she continued softly.

He couldn't control the smile in his voice, doing everything in his power to keep his gaze on the road and not look into her beguiling eyes again. "When I need to be. My sister has given me plenty of practice over the years."

"Your sister lives here?" she questioned with genuine interest.

"Yes, and don't change the subject," he growled, angry with himself for telling her the truth.

He glanced at her long enough to see the timid smile brush across her mouth. "Why does it matter so much to you why I'm marrying Jonathan? I should think the only thing on your mind would be getting the ransom and rid of me."

"It just does," he returned without thinking. He could hardly tell her the truth. That he'd broken a hard fast rule about getting involved and had fallen for her. "Tell me," he insisted, sensing she was close to opening up.

"Sacrifices." She sighed finally, so softly that Brent thought he might have imagined it. "Have you ever loved someone so much that you'd do absolutely anything to protect them?"

Brent knew his answer would matter. "Yes."

"My father is the only family I have left, Brent."

Straightening his back against the seat, he was careful not to show too much eagerness. The last thing he wanted was to frighten her off. "Are you saying you're marrying

Lord because your father wants you to?"

A sarcastic sound escaped her. "Not at all, my father hates Jonathan."

"I don't understand, what does he have to do with you marrying Lord? Has Lord got something on him?" He sensed he was close to finding something out. "Or has he got something on you? Is he blackmailing you with something?" He knew there was more to it than that, unless the senator had lied to him, which he seriously doubted.

"Or is it all about money?"

Sophie shook her head, turning her gaze back to the passing scenery. "I don't need Jonathan's money," she stated softly. "My grandmother left me a trust fund when she died six years ago."

Brent looked at her long and hard before a bump in the road pulled his attention back to the slick pavement. "In that case I guess we're even, princess. Because I don't need you for the money, either."

His statement obviously caught her off-guard. "Then why?" she gasped. "Do you have a personal vendetta against Jonathan?"

"Never met the man, but I know of him. And let's just say I don't like what I know." His gaze bore into her until she glanced away. Her reaction and the soft color flooding her cheeks caused his mouth to turn up in a grin. Is she thinking about us naked and entwined? Because, I am. "If it's not his money, then what?"

Sophie lowered her face. Brent couldn't help wondering if it was done in an effort to conceal the truth from him. "Why does it matter what my reasons are? I'm just a means to an end, aren't I?"

He shrugged. "Let's just say I'm curious."

She lifted her shoulders in return. "Let's just say it's a good business arrangement, then."

Brent's gut told him he was getting close to the truth. Her admittance revealed she wasn't in love with Lord, which gave him immense pleasure. It also proved there might be some validity to the senator's fears.

He snorted. "A business arrangement? That won't satisfy you in bed, princess. You're too passionate for a cold union." _She makes me think of a little tornado, twisting and hungry._

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response," she said. She laid her head back and closed her eyes.

"Why? Because you know I'm right?" Brent slowed the truck down to pull into a convenience store. They needed gas. "Or, are you going to be one of those rich, society types who have the rich husband and a lover on the side?"

"If that's what you want to believe," she snapped. "If you're determined to stereotype me because of my status in life, then far be it from me to disappoint you."

Her comment rubbed Brent the wrong way. "So, you were just getting in a little practice with me?" _If I could let go of the steering wheel without causing an accident I'd grab her and shake her._ "Any time you're up for another round," he grated in a low voice. Parking the truck in front of a gas pump, he cut the engine. "You're a pretty good piece of..."

The next thing Brent knew, he was getting clipped on the jaw. Caught unaware, the blow caused his head to snap around, but almost immediately he swung back to look at Sophie with amusement. He raised his hand to rub the side of his face, taking in the regret swimming in her startled eyes.

She covered her mouth with a horrified gasp. "I'm sorry!" Her words came out in a broken sob. "I, I have married friends who've taken lovers on the side and should never have implied I'm like that." Her teeth chomped down on her bottom lip before she continued. "I was raised better than that, Brent. I've never hit anyone before and I've hit you twice."

Brent gripped her wrist and pulled her across the seat.

"Why? Because you reacted naturally, proving that you have more than ice water running in your veins?" His harsh whisper caused her eyes to widen. "Maybe you should lose control more often."

"No." She shook her head firmly. "It makes you weak."

"Not weak, princess. Human." He placed her palm against his cheek so she could feel the heat left behind from her blow. "Feel that?"

"How can I not?" Tears sprang in her eyes. "That's not the only thing I feel," she said huskily.

The breath hissed from Brent; he couldn't take his eyes off her quivering mouth. He felt a blow straight to his heart. _What is she doing to me?_ "Damn you!"

Something was happening between them, drawing them ever closer. _I don't know how much longer I can go on pretending I'm not attracted to her. For the first time in my life I know what I want. And I want her._

"You're my protector, aren't you?" she continued in a soft voice, surprising him. "Nothing will convince me that you're anything less. Maybe some day I'll learn the truth."

Her words registered, only Brent didn't care about anything except pressing his mouth against her soft lips and tasting her. The palm cupping his cheek turned into a caress, soothing away the pain she'd inflicted. Their stares clung for a moment, her eyes clouding with desire. He watched her lips part, then her tongue run over them in an unwitting invitation.

Brent's hand came up and cupped her jaw. His thumb gently smoothed over her bottom lip, dipping inside slightly to run along the inside where she was moist. She caught her breath, closing her eyes and swaying closer. Fire licked at his senses, and before he knew it, he kissed Sophie with everything he had.

Her sound of surrender excited him. She melted into him like sweet frosting on a hot cinnamon bun. Forgetting where they were, Brent's fingers tangled in the soft cloud of her hair and his mouth moved over hers with growing hunger. Little whimpers of pleasure erupted from her throat when his tongue glided across hers. When his other hand dropped to her breast in a lingering sweep, it didn't take long for the passion to fully ignite between them. She thrust her breast against his hand, and Brent nearly had heart failure when he felt her hand drop to his lap.

_Hell!_ He turned hard in an instant. His tongue began to mimic what his body wanted to do. There wasn't a shy bone in Sophie's body when she's hungry. Before the situation between them had a chance to get out of control, the blast of a car horn tore them apart like guilty teenagers.

"Damn!" he swore, his eyes quickly searching the area around them, before narrowing on Sophie again. "I want you," he admitted gruffly. "Right here, on this seat." The truth was in Sophie's eyes; she wanted it too.

He shook his head to clear it and turned to exit the vehicle. He wasn't worried she'd try and escape. Too much had passed between them. After slipping a credit card through he began filling the truck. What was he doing, losing control like that, and in a public place? The answer was simple; Sophie made him feel alive every time she got close, every time she touched him, even in the smallest way. And every time he looked deeply into her eyes, into her soul, he lost a little more of his heart to her.

I've fallen in love with her.

For whatever reason, she was going to marry Jonathan Lord. It was just a matter of time before he found them, especially with the resources he had at his disposal. Brent glanced around, looking for signs of him. His gaze landed on the late model Lincoln with its black-tinted windows immediately. He'd been looking for them ever since they'd left the marina, recognizing the bad boys when he saw them. Some things never changed. They were obviously on their way to the boat landing and hadn't quite reached the gas station yet. Maybe with a little luck they wouldn't recognize his truck and continue past.

He quickly replaced the nozzle, staring at the vehicle as he rounded the truck in unhurried strides. Opening the door, he hesitated before sliding in, watching as the Lincoln came to a stop at a light directly across from them. The only thing working in their favor was they were going in the opposite direction, boxed in by other vehicles.

His gaze briefly fell to Sophie. She was watching him with worry in her eyes; not the look of a woman about to be rescued. "It's Jonathan," she said simply.

He gave a slight nod. "I know." He knew because he'd done his homework. On top of that he recognized the custom-made license plate on the front of the car, Lord's Law. To date no one had been able to figure out the significance of that, but Brent had his own ideas.

All at once Sophie leaned across the seat toward him. "Let me go, Brent; it's the only thing you can do. Jonathan won't let up until he gets me back. And we both know what he'll do to you."

"Worried about me, princess?" he teased, a crooked smile spreading across his chiseled lips. "Don't be. I've been up against tougher men."

"I'll give you the money myself!" she rushed out desperately, fear for what Jonathan would do to him in her eyes.

"It's not that easy."

"But..."

"Damn!" Brent slid in, forcing Sophie back to her side of the truck. The light had changed but instead of continuing the way they were, he watched the Lincoln cut across traffic and make an illegal turn. It was obvious they'd been spotted. He started the engine and threw the truck in gear.

"They've turned around," Sophie stated the obvious, twisting in her seat to watch them approach. "Brent, please, let me go."

He ignored her. "Hold on." Seeing a break in traffic he floored the accelerator, sending her flying against the door before she could brace herself. His gaze shot back and forth between the road in front of them and rearview mirror, watching to make certain he kept as much distance between them and the Lincoln as possible.

"They're driving like crazy men," she commented, watching as the Lincoln began to zigzag through traffic in an effort to move closer. Drivers were honking their horns in anger, swerving to avoid being hit.

"So are we," Brent responded, cutting off a semi and getting a not so polite hand gesture for it. His goal was to keep enough traffic between them. _Who am I kidding? Once we leave the congested part of town and are back on the coastal two-lane highway we won't be hard to catch._

He didn't relish the thought of placing Sophie in any kind of danger. He'd put her through enough. He glanced over to see her clutching the dashboard for dear life as he wove in and around vehicles in their way. Checking his rearview mirror again brought relief when he saw the Lincoln temporarily forced to stop at a red light. The windshield was too dark to see who was driving; instinct telling Brent it wasn't Lord. Nevertheless he didn't doubt Lord was giving the orders.

"Things might get hairy," he remarked, shooting Sophie a warning look. "If I tell you to get down on the floor, you do it without question."

"Why would I need to get down on the floor?"

The look of innocence on her face caused his gut to clench. "There might be shooting."

Her face turned a shade lighter. "If you would just stop this truck and let me out, we can end it here and now," she said with growing panic. "I don't want anyone getting shot over me."

"Not even the man who kidnapped and terrorized you? I'd think you'd want to see me brought down."

She ignored his misplaced sense of humor, turning to glance out the window as the scenery raced by. Brent felt like a bastard when he saw her bottom lip quiver. "How can you be so flippant at a time like this? I don't want you getting hurt or going to prison."

Interesting. Brent remained quiet. _Later I can explore the meaning behind it. Right now I'm concerned with Lord and his goons._

A look in his side view mirror showed the Lincoln was about twelve car lengths behind, forced to travel at a slower speed behind a cement truck. There was no way to go around the truck until there was a break in the oncoming traffic. Thank God there's a steady stream of vehicles preventing him from doing just that. In spite of that, Brent didn't see any way of losing him. They were speeding down the coastal road only as fast as the traffic in front of them allowed. Stoplights were nonexistent.

He glanced at Sophie, noticing the stubborn set of her chin as she stared straight ahead. Her expression said she was miles away. _What is she thinking?_ Turning his attention back to traffic, Brent shifted his foot to the break pedal. The van ahead of them was slowing as it prepared to make a left-hand turn across traffic, forcing them to come to a dead stop.

"Damn!" he muttered beneath his breath.

"Brent."

"What?" His gaze remained on what was happening behind them. He shifted his hips and reached behind him, withdrawing the gun he kept tucked in his belt. He was vaguely aware of Sophie spinning around, as though to see if he had reason to need his weapon. A sigh of obvious relief followed. So far no one had exited the Lincoln. Nonetheless, Brent wasn't taking any chances.

"Brent." This time he turned, something in her tone causing him to narrow his gaze on her. "I'm sorry, but...please don't come after me." Her hand fumbled for the door handle as she spoke.

He took in what she was doing. "Sophie, damn it!" He guessed her intentions too late. She opened the door, evading his outstretched hand, and jumped down. She slammed the door behind her and turned to run.

Swearing, Brent opened his door and jumped to the ground. "Sophie!" He watched her slip on loose gravel on the shoulder in her haste to get away. If she heard his angry shout, she ignored it. He hurried after her, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. At the same time he saw the doors to the Lincoln open, and three men quickly exit. Instincts warned him that one of them was Lord. Sophie came to a halt and swung around; a look of terror in her eyes.

"Brent..."

Brent rounded the tail end of his truck and grabbed her into his arms. "You little fool!" His anger was tempered because of his concern for her.

"They're coming, please go!" she cried, struggling against him. Her gaze returned to Jonathan. "They'll kill you!"

"They won't kill me out here in the open," he tried to reassure her.

"You don't know that!" she wept, ceasing her struggles and tearing her gaze off Jonathan long enough to appeal to him. "I'm begging you, go!" Tears were streaming down her face. "I couldn't bear it if you're hurt because of me." She started to reach up to his face, but thought better of it.

"Sophie," he started, only to be interrupted by something hitting the gravel near his feet. Then another and another and in a split second Brent knew what it was. He swung sharply toward the three men heading their way. One of them had drawn his gun and was shooting wildly as he ran. Enraged, he quickly placed himself in front of Sophie, shielding her with his body as he prepared to shoot his own weapon. _Is the man a fool?_ His first shot had come damn close to hitting her. He watched as Lord pulled the man's arm down.

At least he showed some common sense.

"It's over!" Sophie said from behind him, her fingers digging into the muscles of his arms until he pivoted to face her. "I'm going back with Jonathan, I have to."

"You're a fool if you think I'm going to let..."

"Please, Brent." Her mouth was trembling with emotion. "I love you!" she gasped, as though just discovering the truth for herself. "I love you!"

_She loves me?_ _How does she expect me to let her go after that admission?_ Before he could stop her she jerked away, running toward Jonathan. Leaving her went against everything he stood for, especially to the likes of Lord, but she was right. Lord wouldn't hurt her, but he'd become fish bait if he remained there much longer. Besides, he couldn't help her if he was dead.

It didn't seem to matter they were out in the open and two lanes of traffic were speeding past. A single gun wouldn't stand a chance against three, and by all rights Lord had justifiable cause to kill him. On top of that there was always the possibility Sophie would get caught up in an ugly confrontation. He couldn't let that happen. He knew if he thought she was in any danger he'd gladly stay there and meet his maker. Only Lord had more to gain by keeping Sophie alive.

With great reluctance Bret returned to his truck, leaving Sophie to face Jonathan on her own.

### Chapter 18

At six foot five inches, short women didn't appeal to Brent Howard in the least. So it was only natural his sharp gaze zeroed in on five feet nine inch Sophie Adams the minute she walked into the room.

That and the fact he loved her.

She took his breath away, looking very much like she had the night his gaze lit on her for the first time. Has it only been a week since we parted on the side of the road? It felt like a lifetime ago when he'd watched her climb inside Lord's car with him and his goons. Leaving her had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. His stare feasted on her like a man dying of thirst.

The strapless gown she was wearing clung like second skin to her shapely form and jutting breasts; the side view revealing a split that went from the top of a glittering ankle bracelet all the way up her thigh. His stare lingered a moment on her shapely leg, being rewarded with a mouth-watering view when she took a step and the platinum-colored satin separated even more. His gaze narrowed, intense heat rushing through his body when he realized she was wearing a garter belt.

To keep his mind focused on matters at hand he forced himself to shift his gaze. Holding a tumbler of scotch he remained hidden in the shadows, not yet ready to reveal himself. The fact his face wasn't plastered all over the news told him Lord was out to kill him. He couldn't get away with something like that if he admitted he knew who'd kidnapped Sophie. The asinine explanation he'd given the authorities and news media that the whole thing was a misunderstanding didn't fool him or the senator.

From his vantage point he had a good view of just about everyone in the room, as they congregated at the elaborate buffet table or moved slowly on the small dance floor. The French doors that led to the garden were open, allowing guests to come and go at will. He made sure he knew where Lord's henchmen were at all times, willing to bet Senator Adams didn't know some of his guests were little better than gangsters, packed and ready for action. Most likely they were looking for him, with orders to shoot first and ask questions later. Brent took a sip of his drink.

He was packed for trouble too.

Ever attuned to Sophie's presence a movement drew his attention back to her. Lord had joined her, causing Brent to angrily swallow the rest of his drink. His hand tightened around the glass with enough pressure to break it if he wasn't careful. The thought of her becoming Mrs. Jonathan Lord and sharing his bed left acid churning in his gut. His gaze automatically dropped to her hand, looking for the gaudy diamond and glad to see it not there, before narrowing dangerously on Lord when he suddenly raised his hands. It was all Brent could do not to storm across the room and smash his fist into the other man's face.

Remembering his promise to the senator that he wouldn't make a move until the time was right.

* * * *

"Another wedding gift, darling." Standing purposely in front of her, Jonathan brought the diamond necklace up and fastened it around her throat. His position forced him to lean into Sophie as he reached around to do the clasp. "You don't look very happy," he continued with a knowing glimmer in his eyes.

"Should I be?" she inquired coolly, turning her face away. She barely moved until he finally stepped back. Only Jonathan would have none of that, he wouldn't tolerate her cold acceptance of him in front of their guests. Reaching up, he took her chin, forcing her around in an attempt to kiss her. She turned before he could complete the action.

His lips twisted into a humorless smile. "Did you shudder when he touched you?" he whispered cruelly.

Sophie forced herself to meet his hateful gaze. "With ecstasy," she answered softly, taking pleasure in the hardening of his jaw.

"Then I'll just have to make certain you enjoy my possession more," he said with relish. "It will be my pleasure taking you over and over again until I wipe his memory away."

That wouldn't happen in a hundred years. She could only look at him, too much a lady to respond to his crudeness. Refusing to let him see how much she loathed him, knowing it would be as good as handing him a weapon to use against her. She was careful to keep her emotions in check even though she was shocked to the core by his threat.

"What, no response to that?" He smiled.

"Have you seen my father?" He'd said he wanted to talk to her when they could steal a moment alone. So far Jonathan had always managed to be there, clinging to her like a leech and refusing to let her out of his sight.

"Come to think of it, I haven't seen our host yet this evening. Why, do you think daddy is going to save you from me? You should know by now that I always get what I want. At any cost."

"Through blackmail." She rolled her shoulders out from under his hands, growing angry. "How does it feel knowing that's the only way you can have me? You'll never have my love or respect. You might take my body but even then I'll be thinking of another man."

Sophie no longer cared about keeping up pretenses. She casually scanned the occupants in the room, searching for Brent. She couldn't see him but she knew in her heart he was there. She could feel him, watching her, and waiting.

"He'd be a fool to show his face around here," Jonathan said, guessing her thoughts. "My men have orders to shoot him on sight. There's not a jury in the world that would convict a man protecting his woman from the very person who kidnapped her." His low laugh grated on her nerves, as she was sure he meant it to. "I'd be a hero in the public's eye."

"And why do you think I'd want him to come here? I ran away from him to you, remember?" She frowned, looking into his eyes until guilt forced her to break the contact. In that instant she saw the answer on his smug face, somehow he'd guessed the truth.

"Because, Sophie dear, you love the bastard. You're not as clever as you'd like to think. The only reason you ran to me was to save him. I know you gave yourself to him on his boat; all you accomplished was sealing his fate."

She gasped that he actually had the nerve to put it into words, facing him fully. "We have a deal, Jonathan."

"In regard to your father only," he reminded her.

"If you kill Brent..."

"You'll do what?" He laughed sarcastically. "Run to daddy? Do you think his political reputation will stand the truth coming out? And what about you, my beloved, do you want the world knowing what your mother is?"

Sophie turned and walked away before she lost control, heading straight for the buffet table. Her mother couldn't hurt her because the woman had never really fulfilled that role for Sophie. No, that wasn't quite true. Her mother was hurting her now by keeping her from going to the man she loved. She reached for a small plate and began filling it when her father appeared at her side.

"What's wrong, dear? You look flustered." His expression hardened when she turned his way and he noticed the tears in her eyes. Grabbing her plate, he set it down, taking her by the arm. "I think it's time for that talk now."

Sophie nodded gratefully, still too emotional to talk past the lump in her throat. Before she knew it they were in his library with the door safely closed and locked behind them. A father's instinct that she needed something to calm her nerves led him to the bar where he poured her a glass of wine and a scotch on the rocks for himself.

"I have something to confess to you, dear." By the time he turned to face her Sophie was getting comfortable on the sofa by the fireplace. "I have a feeling you're going to need this." She took the glass from him without comment, watching as he sat in the chair opposite from her.

Crossing his legs, he took a sip of his drink, his eyes filled with a father's worry. He took a long breath before finally speaking. "I've wanted to get you alone since Jonathan phoned to tell me he'd found you."

"I hope you're not going to bring up that nonsense about blackmail," she warned him mildly, not about to go through another round with him about that particular subject. She didn't know if she had the strength to continue denying it.

Her father smiled, slowly shaking his head. "If that were all I had on my mind, this would be easy. But the time has come for me to be truthful with you, Sophie, completely honest."

"You're starting to scare me," she breathed, bringing the glass to her lips.

He expelled a deep sigh. "I'm afraid what I have to say is going to make you hate me. But keep in mind, everything I did was because I love you and wanted to protect you. Some day when you have children of your own you'll understand. I, ah..." He hesitated, clearing his throat, and then decided to take a sip of his own drink.

His obvious reluctance to continue kept her watching him with interest. It wasn't like her father, who was usually so strong and forthcoming, to stagger and appear contrite. A man in his position couldn't afford to be weak. "You have my attention." The smile on her face had nothing to do with humor, and was meant only to put him at ease. Whatever he had to tell her, she believed him when he said it was done out of love.

He took another breath and plunged on. "First, let me tell you that your abduction was a farce from the start. Brent Howard is a friend of mine. In fact, he's a bodyguard I hired to kidnap you."

"What?" Eyes rounding with disbelief, Sophie spilled her drink when she started to get up too fast. She didn't know what shocked her most, finding out Brent was a bodyguard or that her father had arranged for her abduction. She'd suspected something but not this. "I don't believe..."

The senator raised his hand to stop her. "Please, hear me out before you get all riled up. I promise all your questions will be answered." Waiting until she sank back against the cushions, he continued, "In spite of your insistence that you aren't being forced into this marriage, I was certain you were."

"I told you..." She halted when he raised his hand again in a silent plea for her to let him finish.

"Jonathan Lord has a nasty reputation beneath that polished exterior, and you're far too sweet and loving to be attracted to a man like him. That's why I arranged for Brent to kidnap you on the eve of your wedding. I needed time to get to the bottom of this."

Sophie hung on his every word, stunned at what he was admitting, but she didn't hate him. How can I when his actions brought Brent into my life? He took another drink, relief visible in his eyes that she was receptive to what he said.

"I was determined to find out what kind of hold Jonathan had on you. It didn't occur to me it could have anything to do with your mother, since she's been out of the family for so long." Sophie's eyes flared with alarm. She opened her mouth to deny it, but he continued quickly, "It's your mother, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you mean," she hedged, looking nervously away. It sounded like he was fishing and she wasn't about to admit to anything until she knew for sure. It suddenly occurred to her she'd been right about Brent. He had been protecting her.

Senator Adams finished his drink in one swallow. "I know all about Ann, dear. I know she changed her name and is living a less than acceptable lifestyle these days. Though, you need to understand something, Sophie; she was very young when I married her, perhaps too young. You and Paul came along within the first two years. That was my fault because I wanted to start a family right away. She tried to be a good wife and mother for a while but everything happened so fast. Then she mixed in with the wrong people and got hooked on drugs."

He was actually making excuses for her mother? Her ears burned hearing the truth on his lips. She jumped off the sofa with a sob, rushing to the French doors and opening them to capture a breath of fresh air. From where she stood she could hear soft music drifting from the party, the subtle conversation and laughter of couples walking in the garden.

"Is that what Jonathan's blackmailing you with? I want the truth, Sophie. As your father, you owe me that." His forceful tone indicated he was back to his old confident self again.

Wiping away the moisture on her cheeks she stared into the darkness, wishing Brent was there to hold her. She should be angry with both of them for their deception, but she wouldn't give back one moment of pleasure she'd found in Brent's arms.

"Is it?" he persisted, breaking into her thoughts. "Tell me."

She supposed the truth wouldn't hurt now, even if it didn't alter the fact she was still going to marry Jonathan. She nodded slowly; knowing once the words left her mouth there'd be no turning back. "Jonathan told me the press would have a field day if they found out what kind of woman you'd married. That it was just the thing to end your political career and ruin your reputation. I couldn't let that happen."

"And all he wanted in return for his silence was you," he stated sharply.

Sophie hesitated from responding. "Yes." Her gaze was drawn to a falling star as it streaked across the sky, prompting her to make a wish to be back in Brent's arms where she longed to be. She leaned against the doorjamb, tilting her face into the gentle breeze, wondering if she'd ever see him again.

Why did I have to go and fall in love with him?

### Chapter 19

"I've heard enough."

The deep familiar voice caused a sharp gasp from Sophie. She spun around; her stomach fluttering wildly. The low, angry timbre hadn't come from her father; it was Brent's furious gaze she met as he swiveled around in the chair he'd been sitting in behind her father's desk.

He'd apparently been listening the whole time! As shocked as she was she couldn't disguise the pleasure of seeing him again. He couldn't seem to look away from her either; the hardness in his eyes quickly thawing into a sensual warmth that caused her pulse to leap with excitement. She wanted to run to him but wasn't up to explaining that kind of reaction to her father.

Taking advantage of her momentary loss for words, Senator Adams quickly added, "Jonathan can't hurt me, Sophie. Do you think the public will hold me responsible for the way Ann turned out? And if they do, then to hell with them! I've been thinking about retiring lately."

They were words, just words, and she didn't believe him. Politics was his whole way of life and had been for as long as she could remember. It was in his blood.

"It doesn't matter," she insisted softly, her tone pleading with them to understand. "Just because you know the truth doesn't change the fact I made a promise to Jonathan." She met her father's angry expression. "How many times have I heard you say that no matter what happens in life, when you give someone your word, you see it through because integrity means everything?"

"Bah! Not to the likes of him!" the senator roared, tossing his arms in the air and spinning around with obvious frustration. He couldn't win that argument with Sophie and they both knew it. "You talk some sense into her, Brent."

Her gaze swung to Brent as he slowly rose and made his way toward her, her heart tightening with emotion at the tenderness in his eyes. He was clearly prepared to win her over using a completely different tactic. She braced herself.

"What about me, princess? Do you honestly think I'm going to let Lord get you through blackmail?"

"You can't stop me," she said unwisely, taking an uneasy step back.

"You think not?"

"Don't come near me!"

He halted at her impassioned declaration, his eyes narrowing on her, and Sophie couldn't believe it was going to be that easy. Then without further hesitation, he completed his journey, promptly taking her by the shoulders and pulling her sharply against him. He ignored her gasp of surprise. She was unable to ignore the hardness of his body, or his warm, sensual scent. She felt desire building in her belly. Exquisite sensations flooding her senses. Her gaze went to his firm lips with the longing to kiss that sexy mouth until he forgot everything but her.

"You said you love me," he reminded her, in a whisper meant only for her ears. He wasn't playing fair. Sophie opened her mouth but before she could get a word out Brent kissed her, and she knew she was lost.

Nothing else mattered.

As soon as his lips touched hers, she went a little mad. She wanted him to love her, all of her. He swallowed her little whimpers of pleasure, tracing his tongue along the inside of her bottom lip before finally mating with hers. "I've been dreaming about this moment for seven lonely days and nights." He whispered against her mouth, before deepening his kiss again.

The blood pounded in Sophie's ears, drowning out the noise of the party beyond the room. Everything became muted except the beating of her heart against his, and the rush of excitement exploding through her body. Her hands fell to his shoulders, her nails biting into his jacket as her need escalated to match his. Her desire seemed to feed his. His grip tightened as he brought her closer to his aroused body.

Her father's discreet cough reminded them they weren't alone.

Sophie was able to step back when Brent's hands relaxed. It wasn't enough though; she could still feel the heat between them. She breathed in their combined scent, filling her lungs with the heady combination of sweetness and fire that kept her blood hot. Their gazes remained locked, reflecting smoldering desire and unspoken promises.

Senator Adams broke the silence first. "You're not getting married tomorrow and that's final," he said firmly, his expression turning red. "I won't let you!" He made eye contact with Brent. "If I'm forced to have you kidnapped again..."

"I'm a grown woman, Dad. I can handle my own battles." Her gaze never left Brent's eyes. "Please understand," she pleaded softly.

"You're going through with it then?" With hot tears filling her eyes, Sophie nodded reluctantly. "If you're determined to become a martyr, I guess there's nothing more to say." His burning gaze shot to her father, before saying in a tone that clearly revealed he didn't care anymore. "I'm done here."

_A martyr!_ Sophie had never thought of herself in that way but before she could deny it Brent pivoted, striding briskly from the room and out of her life, taking her heart with him. The soft click of the door closing behind him seemed over loud in the silence of the room, revealing the level of control he asserted. Sophie wanted to cry out for him to come back, facing her unusually quiet father instead.

He looked like a mad bull getting ready to explode. His mouth had formed into a straight line of anger turning his lips white. She couldn't recall ever seeing him that angry with her.

"Dad..."

"Normally I wouldn't interfere in your life but you've made a terrible mistake, young lady. Furthermore, you're way out of your league. Once Jonathan realizes I can and will send him to prison, he'll leave town with his tail between his legs."

"But..."

"No buts, Sophie." He opened the door to leave, halting in the threshold to make sure he had her full attention. "You and Brent love each other. Don't bother denying it; I can see it in your eyes. And you're a fool if you don't go after him!"

Sophie didn't bother denying the truth, her father was right, though Brent hadn't exactly professed his love for her. Still, she knew he wanted her, at least he did.

Now even that was questionable.

* * * *

After spending a sleepless night tossing and turning in the guestroom of her father's mansion, Sophie sank down into a wicker rocker on the balcony, staring out at the elaborate gardens as the sun came up. Hours before she was supposed to dress for her wedding. She hadn't seen her father since he'd stormed out of his den the night before. He knew she was there, though. She'd sent a servant with messages to both him and Jonathan that she was done in for the night and didn't want to be disturbed.

Thoughts of Brent had invaded her short dreams and now her every waking moment; images of him walking out of her life replayed over and over again. She'd awakened several times crying out his name, then lay there agonizing over what she should do. Her father was right; she was a fool for letting him go. And as soon as she got dressed she would face Jonathan with her decision and then find Brent.

She prayed he loved her enough to forgive her.

A loud knock at the door interrupted her silent musings and Sophie called out for them to enter, until remembering she'd locked it the night before, worried Jonathan wouldn't respect her wishes.

More than a little surprised that he had. As she walked through the bedroom she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the large gold-framed mirror over the dresser. She was a wreck.

"Sophie, it's me, dear, open up. I have something to tell you." She opened the door, standing back so her father could enter. His worried gaze took in her rumpled condition, causing a deep frown to appear between his eyes.

She braced herself for an attack, recognizing the energized no-nonsense attitude cloaking him, knowing it would all be erased once she told him her plans. "Good morning."

He ignored her cheerful greeting, getting right to the point of his visit. "There's not going to be a wedding today, at least not to Jonathan. That's off, permanently," he said in a confident tone.

"But..."

He plowed right over her. "After I left you last night I searched him out and we had a little talk, with me doing most of the talking." Sophie wondered what the strange little smile on his face meant. "Course, he wasn't in any shape to do much more then listen. After that I had the bastard arrested for blackmail."

The smile softening her face was genuine. For the first time in her adult life, she wasn't angry over her father's interference. "Oh, Dad," she breathed with relief, walking into his open arms. "I'd planned on..."

"I can't take all the credit, dear," he interrupted again, giving her a bear hug. "I think you should know Brent got to him before I did. He apparently came prepared for action last night," he surprised her by saying. "By the time I arrived on the scene Jonathan was in no shape to run, anywhere."

"What do you mean?" she gasped.

"I thought Brent made himself clear enough last night."

Sophie held his gaze for a long time trying to decipher his meaning, her mind going back to the events as they occurred. Yes, she remembered the passion in Brent's declaration that he wouldn't let Jonathan have her. He'd apparently come to the party with his own agenda, yet he hadn't stuck around to claim her when it was over.

"Now, if you stop wasting time, it's not too late to catch Brent before he leaves."

"Catch him? What are you talking about?"

"He's about to take off for a trip around the world. If you love him, go after him and work things out. I know he loves you."

Sophie's heart skipped a beat. "He's never said so." She wanted to believe he did though.

"Can you blame the man? The last thing he practically heard out of your mouth last night was that you intended to go through with your wedding. Under those circumstances do you think it would be easy telling you he loved you? Pride's a strong emotion, dear. Some men can't get past it."

Sophie felt a warm glow flow through her from his words, beginning to realize that she and Brent just might have a chance at happiness. "Women have pride too."

"Sophie Margarita Adams!" he began in exasperation, receiving a wide smile on her face that revealed she was purposely baiting him. He calmed down, crossing his arms and raising a brow in an expression that used to intimidate her.

"Where?" she asked impatiently, heading toward the closet to change before it dawned on her that she didn't have anything to wear, thanks to her last minute decision to stay at her father's home. The gown from the night before was hardly appropriate but it was better than showing up in her birthday suit.

"Where is he?"

"He's at the marina."

_The marina?_ She faltered as the old fear resurfaced. "I thought you said he was getting ready to take off for a trip around the world."

"On his boat," he explained, watching her closely. "He postponed his plans for a long vacation when I asked him to, ah, help me out." He made a show of glancing at his watch.

"My chauffeur is waiting. You might make it if you hurry."

### Epilogue

By the time Sophie reached the dock she was a bundle of nerves, between worrying that she was doing the right thing, and if Brent would even want to see her. There was absolutely no one around; the restaurant parking lot was deserted and the bait shop looked closed. If it hadn't been for the fact Brent's truck was parked in front of the pier, she would have asked the driver to turn around and go back the way they'd come.

Now she stood there, watching the white limo disappear, trying to work up the courage to take the first step onto the dock. Her gaze riveted to Brent's boat at the end of the pier, the only thing keeping her from his arms. She didn't see him right away, realizing he must be below deck, making preparations for the trip. As frightened as she was, she loved him a thousand times more. The knowledge he was at the end of her journey gave her the strength she needed to take the first step.

Almost at once she was overcome with dizziness, closing her eyes and grasping for the rail to keep from tumbling into the water. Cursing her weakness, she paused long enough for it to pass before opening her eyes and continuing. And that's when her gaze landed on Brent. He'd just stepped up on deck and hadn't noticed her yet, bent over some task at his feet. Her heart sang with joy, the sight of him just what she needed to give her the courage to take another step, and then another. Something alerted him she was there because suddenly his head turned her way.

He straightened in slow motion, turning fully toward Sophie. The instinct to call out to him to come to her was overwhelming, but making the walk down the dock was something Sophie needed to do on her own. Not only to put to rest a childhood memory that tormented her every time she got close to the water, but to show Brent she loved him enough to overcome that fear by facing it, taking control like the strong, willful woman they both knew she was. A smile trembled upon her mouth when she raised her face long enough to meet his stare. Their gazes clung. Sophie felt her heart constrict with love.

"You can do it, baby," he mouthed the words quietly, holding her gaze, encouraging her with his strength. Sophie sensed he was poised for action should she need him.

"You better come get me if I start to fall," she said half jokingly. She became more confident the closer she moved to him.

"I'll be there before you hit the water, baby," he promised huskily.

Finally, Sophie reached the end of her journey. She paused before taking the final step onto his boat. "I love you."

The decision to take the last step was taken away from Sophie. Brent reached for her with an impatient growl, drawing her onto his boat and into his arms. He crushed her against him as if he would never let her go, reaching up with a shaking hand to gently brush the soft strands of hair out of her face. Then, before anything else, he slanted his mouth over hers. Kissing her hungrily, gradually reducing it into a tender assault that went on for several long seconds.

It left her breathless. And hungry.

"What are you doing here?" His lips brushed against her temple as he spoke, his hands moving over her curves as though convincing himself that she was really there, in his arms, and not his imagination working overtime.

"I told you," she explained, before he reclaimed her lips. She opened her mouth beneath his, giving herself freely to his passion, joining her tongue to his in a dance meant to ignite a fire and sweep them away.

Sophie was trembling wildly when their lips parted, her senses overloaded by Brent's fierce passion. She arched into the cradle of his hips, moaning softly when his body awakened against hers. His hands smoothed down her back to the curve of her hips, before gliding over her bottom and squeezing. He leaned his forehead against hers.

"I love you, Sophie. I love you so damn much that I almost lost my mind last night. I never want to go through that kind of hell again."

"Hush." She pulled his head down, touching her lips to his. "That's all over now. The only thing that's important is us, here and now." She continued to tease him with her mouth, her tongue, nipping tenderly at his bottom lip. A shiver racked her body. A shudder racked his. "I've been looking for someone like you all my life."

His hand closed into the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her back so he could meet her gaze. "I've never met a woman who's come close to making me feel what you do. You're coming with me," he said with steely authority.

A joyous laugh escaped Sophie. She didn't question his ability to protect her from any of the fears that plagued her.

"But I don't have any clothes..."

"I have plenty of shirts..." he said with a wolfish gleam in his eyes.

"Are you kidnapping me again?"

"Now that's the best idea you've had, princess." A grin broke out on his face, his eyes narrowing at her with mock severity. "And our first stop is the Bahamas, where I think I'll make an honest woman out of you."

Her heart was about to burst with happiness. "Do I have anything to say over the matter?" Emotion made her voice low and husky.

"I do, for starters," Brent replied, sweeping her up into his arms.

"I do," she whispered against his mouth, teasing him into kissing her again.

"Forever."

The End

### 2014 Books

### HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY!

Available at Liquid Silver Books

Reaching a milestone in her life, Lana's friends have arranged for something special for her fiftieth birthday. Dragging her to a popular nightclub, they arrange for a lap dance from one of the male strippers. The very male stripper she's been secretly admiring for months.

Joe's been admiring Lana, too, as she hides out in a dark corner of the bar. Overhearing her friends planning her birthday is his opportunity to finally meet the shy beauty. Only one lap dance isn't all Joe wants from Lana. He talks her into going home with him, promising to make her birthday celebration one she'll never forget.

****

Serve and Submit Series – 5 stand alone stories, 6000-7000 words, in a series where all the heroes serve the public in some kind. These stories are smoking hot, and will be released individually.

Pulled Over - Book 1

Available at Smashwords, Amazon, Barnes and Nobel, All Romance Ebooks

What starts out as a normal afternoon drive home for Sunny turns into a steamy encounter between her and a cop after she's pulled over for an expired tag, and burned-out tail light. She can't afford a ticket. What's a girl to do?

On Fire - Book 2

Available at Smashwords, Amazon, Barnes and Nobel, All Romance Ebooks

Faith has been horny for Dean since he moved into her apartment building, two doors down. She caught him eyeing her while sun-bathing at the pool one day, and thought he was interested in her, too. But it takes a fire in her kitchen for the hunky fireman to finally act on their mutual attraction.

Under Cover - Book 3

Party Time - Book 4

Lovers - Book 5
