“What?” The word shot out of Terra. “How?”

“He had a contact in the police department. Someone who fed him information on both of you,” Bryson said. “She just confessed.”

“What?” She sounded like a broken record, but she didn’t care. “She? Who is she?”

“A woman in the records department by the name of Cynthia Bunker. Does that name ring any bells?” Bryson asked.

Terra exchanged glances with Dylan. “Vaguely,” she said. “Around the edges.”

“She claims she met you at a school function a few months back. She says that she’s always hated you. So when Rivers started staking out our area a few months back—”

“A few months,” Terra burst out. “But he’s been in prison.”

“According to Cynthia,” Bryson said, “she’s been corresponding with him by mail. He’s been staking it out that way while he plotted an escape from the work detail.”

“So Rivers manipulated her to the point she’s been giving him information?” Dylan sounded incredulous.

Apparently Rivers has been milking her for information while she’s been milking him,” Bryson said.

Terra snorted. “She’s been sleeping with him?”

Bryson said, “She confessed that he took her car last night after she slept with him. But she swears she didn’t give him permission to take it.”

Dylan cursed under his breath again. “Tell me this woman has some serious mental problems or she’s incredibly naive.”

Bryson said, “Bingo. Both. She’s on several drugs right now, including one for severe depression. Which isn’t to say she’d do something like this because she’s depressed, but obviously he manipulated her very well.”

Terra held up one hand, even though she knew Bryson couldn’t see her. “That’s who he is. A manipulator. How did Allan know where I was in the first place? Just because Cynthia gave him the information?”

“It’s part dumb luck. His parents told him where you moved,” Bryson said. “He got lucky when Cynthia hooked into sending him mail after she saw an article about you in the newspaper, Terra. She already disliked you, I guess, and then she saw the article and bam. She saw it as a way to get even with you.”

Terra threw her hands up. “I don’t even remember this woman!”

“My friend in the department said Cynthia was getting more erratic all the time, and when her supervisor checked into what Cynthia was doing on her computer, that’s when he saw that she’d logged into all these files on Rivers. For no legitimate reason. The supervisor investigated and Cynthia confessed. That’s the only reason we know about it,” Bryson.

“Damn it.” Dylan said. “This isn’t good.”

Terra’s blood iced. “Okay, now that we know the facts, what do we do?”

The landline went silent.

“Bryson? You there?” Dylan asked.

The line was dead.

Dylan stood slowly, his stance filled with tension. “Up to the safe room.”

“What?” Terra also stood. “Why?”

“Just go. Now. I don’t think the line going dead is a coincidence.”

She seized up, her brain refusing to cooperate.

Dylan took her upper arm and steered her around the couch toward the staircase.

A boom cracked through the same time the front door lock shattered and wood flew everywhere. She also heard Dylan’s voice as he cursed.

“Upstairs!” Dylan shoved her toward the stairs.

Another loud boom hurt her ears and a searing pain struck her head, and she fell onto her left side before she could reach the stairs. She heard a man’s yell, but it didn’t sound like Dylan. She heard Allan River’s voice. Time stretched, lengthened. What the hell was wrong with her? What had happened?

Terra wondered if she was dead. Her forehead throbbed and her entire body refused to cooperate at first. Then she realize Dylan was lying over her, his arms braced alongside. His heavily-muscled weight sank down on her.

“Dylan!”

But he didn’t move. She pushed at his shoulders, and that’s when she realized blood ran down the side of his head.

“Oh my God,” she whispered as terror sliced open a new place inside her. “Dylan!”

Allan’s boyish face appeared above her, his corn-yellow hair falling over his forehead and almost into his eyes. The freckles over his nose, which he’d always hated, stood out in stark contrast on his pale face.

“Hey baby,” Allan said, his voice rusty. “I’ve come to take you home.”

She couldn’t stop the tears, and she hated that almost as much as she hated Allan in that moment. Her voice wouldn’t cooperate.

Allan’s expression turned to an enraged smirk.“Come on, baby. Aren’t you glad to see me?”

Allan reached down and yanked Dylan off of her. Dylan flopped onto his back and lay still, eyes closed. Allan held a shotgun of some sort at his side.

“Oh, God,” she said again, reaching for Dylan.

“Don’t touch him.”

“But he’s bleeding. Please Allan—”

“Don’t touch him!”

Primal fear froze her in place.

“That’s better,” Alan said as he started for the mangled front door. He shoved it closed and returned to her in a flash. “Much better. Think it’s going to get cold in here later.”

Her gaze landed on Dylan again and pinpointed his chest, waiting to see signs of life. She thought she saw his chest rise and fall, and a shiver of hope coursed through her.

“Stop. Looking. At. Him,” Allan said with a snarl.

In that moment, something cold and hard formed inside Terra. Dylan was out cold, and for all she knew he could be dying. It was up to her to save them both. Determination and pure anger edged aside some of the gut-twisting fear threatening to immobilize her. She had to do something. Anything.

“Okay, Allan. You found us. What do you want?” she asked, still sitting near the staircase, her body trembling.

“Sit on the couch,” he said.

She rose to her feet, all her muscles suddenly aching and weak. She sat on the edge of the couch.

Allan shook his head. “You shouldn’t have ever left me, Terra. That was your first mistake. Are you fucking this guy?”

“No.”

He looked into her eyes, and the coldness she saw made her wondered how she ever could’ve been fooled into thinking he was anything more than an icy, evil-filled man.

His eyes narrowed. “Well, there are a lot of things you’re going to do for me shortly.”

That hard won control she’d acquired moments ago threatened to shatter. “Such as?”

“You’re gonna get upstairs to the bedroom while I tie him up.”

To her surprise, and in one crystal moment, she knew what she had to do to save herself and Dylan.

Everything inside her tightened up, but she said what she knew she must say. “All right.”

Without hesitation, she turned her back on the men and headed upstairs at a trot. Her forehead throbbed with every beat. She could go for the gun in the safe room, but she probably wouldn’t have time to load it and she didn’t trust her skill with shooting it. But she had another idea that would work just as well as a weapon if she did everything right. Without a doubt, she’d have to be the best damned actress on the planet to pull it off, but she had to try. Worry threatened to unseat her plans, but she pushed aside her fear for Dylan. She couldn’t help him if she fell apart.

She ran into the master bedroom, grabbed her case and unzipped it quickly. She snatched a packet of crackers and peanut butter and ran into the bathroom. She locked the door, ripped open the snack package and used a cracker to dig out peanut butter. She ate rapidly. She didn’t need much peanut butter for what she planned. She swallowed and then shoved another cracker in her mouth. Chewing frantically, she scarfed yet another cracker. She made sure she left peanut butter under her tongue. Knowing she didn’t have time to consume more peanut butter, she threw the packet and tissues in the trash.

She heard sounds coming from downstairs and hoped with everything inside her that Allan wasn’t harming Dylan more than he already had.

Please. Please don’t hurt Dylan.

Then she did something else she didn’t want to. She pulled off her shoes, socks and stripped down to her undies. Everything inside her hated this idea, but she couldn’t think of another one considering Allan had the upper hand. At least for now.

She eased open the bathroom door and stepped out. Footsteps tromped up the stairs. She shivered in the chilly room as renewed fear tried to cripple her. She stood straight as the sound of heavy footfalls came up the stairs. Allan came in to doorway, his hands empty. What? No gun? Maybe he just thinks I’m too crippled with fear to do a damned thing.

He came to a dead stop. “Whoa.” His expression changed from cold determination to hungry appreciation. “That’s…nice.”

She tried not to step back as he approached, afraid she hadn’t covered an involuntary flinch.

He didn’t seem to notice as he gripped her shoulders tightly and gazed down at her. “I think you and I are going to have a good time.”

Fighting revulsion, she eased into his embrace, also trying not to seem too hasty. She kept her trap shut. Allan had always liked a compliant woman, one he saw as receptive to what he wanted above her own needs.

He stepped back. “This seems a little too easy, Terra. What are you hiding?”

Her heart almost stopped as new fear threatened. “Hiding?”

“Yeah.” He put his hands on his hips. “Hiding.”

“How did you find us?” she asked.

He sighed. “I have friends in higher places. Don’t try to change the subject. Now why did you strip?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. So just take what you want.”

His eyebrows went up. “Oh, I will.” He tilted his head to the side. “I will.”

With a shit eating grin, he stepped forward. When he yanked her into his arms, she gasped. He wasn’t as tall as Dylan or as fit, but he still outweighed her by quite a bit and by considerable strength.

“If you want your boyfriend down there to live, you’ll do everything I say from this point forward. And I mean everything. We’ve got some lost time to make up for.”

His grin grew wider. Right at that moment, rage solidified inside her. She struggled to make certain the hate wouldn’t show.

His smile didn’t falter. “Why did you run from me?”

“You were in prison. I had to move on with my life.”

“You didn’t write me, but that other stupid bitch did. Turned out it was a lucky break for me. Now it’s a lucky break for you.” His breath touched her forehead. Then her nose. “If you want that guy downstairs to live, prove it to me that you’ll do anything I want. Anything.”

Now or never.

“Of course.”

She leaned forward and kissed him.

He seemed surprised, but when she plunged her tongue into his mouth and cupped his face tightly between her hands, he relented immediately and took the kiss.

You asked for it, you’re going to get it asshole.

He jerked back, staggering as rage filled his face. He knew what she’d done.

“Bitch!”

He swung his fist, she dodged but his aim impacted the side of her head. Pain cracked through her skull. She went down like a brick, landing on her right side.

“Bitch!”

More profanity spilled from his lips as he ran to the bathroom. She half crawled, half ran as for the closet, jammed her hand against the latch to open the safe room and plunged inside. The lights came on as she slammed the door and locked it. She couldn’t hear what was going on outside of the room—apparently the walls were too thick. Trembling all over, she grabbed the phone and then remembered it was tied to a landline. She tried it anyway. No dial tone.

“Shit!” She sat on a bench, unable to stop shaking, and buried her face in her hands.

It didn’t take any imagination to guess what Allan might do next. He might kill Dylan. Tears spilled from her eyes at the thought. “Oh, my God. Dylan.”

Then she thought she heard noises from outside. Thumping. Shouting. She didn’t think Allan was pounding on the door to the safe room. No, these sounds were too far away for that. A bang and then silence. She opened the lock box and reached for the pistol. She fumbled with the ammunition box. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. If she didn’t control herself, she’d shoot her own damned foot off.

Then she remembered the radio. She reached for it when someone pounded on the door.

She froze. What if the peanuts hadn’t done the trick on Allan—

“Terra! It’s Dylan!”

She looked through the peephole. Dylan really stood there, bloody face and all. Relief shot through her.

“Dylan,” she gasped his name and yanked open the door.

He surged inside an immediately and drew her into his arms, cupping her face, searching her with concern in his eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Me? What about you? Where’s Allan?”

He drew her outside of the closet. “Lying here like a beached whale. Didn’t think I hit him that hard. I need to get the medical kit downstairs.”

Not only was Allan lying half in and out of the bathroom, sucking in one agonizing breath after the other, his face was also bloody. His eyes were only half open.

“You didn’t hit him that hard. He’s going into anaphylactic shock. He’s allergic to peanuts.”

Dylan’s expression flashed from surprise to alarm in a heartbeat. “Sweetheart, I need you to go downstairs and grab the medical kit under the kitchen sink and bring it back now. It’s got an epi pen in it.”

Terra rushed downstairs, adrenaline still streaking through her hard enough that she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Part of her hated Allan so much she wanted him to die. The other part didn’t want to be responsible for his demise.

She hurried to the sink, grabbed the medical kit, and returned upstairs at a run. Dylan already had the incapacitated Allan on his back. Allan barely breathed now.

Dylan grabbed the med kit from her. “Got your cell phone? Call 911.”

“Here in my purse,” she said as she snagged it from her purse near the bed.”

As she sank to the bed and watched Dylan save the life of a man that probably would’ve have killed them both, she called for help.

Terra sat on the couch two hours later, just finishing up answering questions while police swarmed the place. Only Dylan’s arm around her shoulders as she pressed to his side kept her from losing it. Dylan rubbed her arm, and she shivered.

The stalwart middle-aged detective sitting on the chair across from them wore a concerned expression.

“You sure you guys don’t want to go to the hospital?” he asked.

“We’re good,” Dylan said. “We’ll go to a hotel tonight. What we need is some peace and quiet. Are we done here?”

The detective nodded. “Yeah. You’ve got my card. We’ll be in touch.”

The detective stood.

Terra reached for Dylan’s other hand, loving the feel of his life force, his strength flowing into her. “You sure you’re okay?”

Although Dylan wore a small bandage on his head where a bullet had grazed the side of his head and his shirt was stained all to hell with blood, the paramedics had declared him sound. They seemed to trust Dylan’s judgement since he’d been in Pararescue. And he’d saved Allan’s life. Allan was now on the way to the hospital under heavy guard.

They’d managed to put in a call to Bryson and Emily during the last two hours. Both Bryson and Emily offered to come to them right away, but Dylan told them both about the hotel plan.

“Let’s get our stuff and head out,” Dylan said.

“I’m driving.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

His easy acquiescence surprised her, but she was glad he didn’t fight her in some macho bid to drive.

After they left the house and drove away, she fought with a reaction to bawl her eyes out. No, I can do that later. After I’m at the hotel. Or maybe not even then.

Thankfully there was a decent hotel on the outskirts of Fort Hood that didn’t take them too much out of the way. Because she didn’t look half as bad as Dylan, with his bandaged head and blood soaked sweater, she went inside to check them in. He’d insisted on paying, and he’d given her a wad of cash from his wallet.

After she’d retrieved two room keys from the desk clerk, she returned to the car and they moved it closer to the building And that’s when she started to feel weird about the one room.

Before they left the car, she turned to him. “I…uh…got one room. ”

He smiled, and even with most of the blood cleaned of his face and the bandage, he still looked so damned handsome her heart ached.

“That’s okay. I wanted you to be comfortable, so I figured whatever felt right to you was okay with me,” he said.

God, could he be any more awesome? Those tears came to her eyes again, but she fought them back. She had to make it to the room before having a meltdown, and maybe not even then.

They used a side door opened by the electronic key to slip into the hotel and took an elevator to the second floor. Once there he used his key to open the door and then went inside. After he’d locked their door, she took note of the basic room. The room wasn’t luxury, but it would do for crashing for the night.

Their eyes met. His held weariness and yet fire, a combination she’d never seen in a man’s eyes before. Yearning and need burned within her.

“I need a shower,” he said, his voice a hoarse, deep whisper.

Worry made her ask, “Are you okay? Really?”

A smile flashed over his mouth. “Yeah. Trust me.”

She answered his grin and said, “Doesn’t mean I’m not worried.”

He approached, and when he stood closer to her, her breath caught. “I think I like that you worry about me. But I’m okay. I promise. I’ll get a quick shower.

With that he took his toiletry kit with him into the bathroom and closed the door. She unpacked her clothes. She sat on the bed, body tired, but mind ramped up. She didn’t know how to find calm after everything they’d experienced today.

The sound of the shower running brought her imagination into full flower. She closed her eyes and envisioned Dylan’s hard, naked frame. Soap slid over each inch of his delicious muscles. She saw in her mind’s eye water trickling down his wide shoulders, over those pecs, washboard abs, down to…

Oh, man.

Time stretched out until she lost real sense of it.

A second later she heard the water shut off in the shower. Her mind went riot. He hadn’t taken fresh clothes into the bathroom with him, only his utility kit. Would he step out naked? She half wished he would. After a short time, the door opened and he walked out with a towel around his waist. Flimsy hotel towels being what they were, she received a generous view of his legs from about mid thigh down. Her lower belly tightened and tingled at the view of well-muscled legs. He looked good enough to eat.

He’d washed his hair and replaced the bandage on his temple with a smaller one.

“All yours,” he said.

For a wild moment, she wondered if he meant he was all hers. Again her body responded, heat streaking to her center.

“Thanks,” she managed to say a little breathlessly.

She hurried through her shower, feeling the weariness increasing by the moment. Butterflies tangled with persistent sensual need. So did common sense. They’d just survived a vicious assault. After she turned off the shower, she thought she heard the television on. After she used a towel to dry off and dressed in her flannel pajamas, she left the bathroom.

Dylan sat at the foot of the bed wearing nothing but dark gray sweatpants. The television was tuned to a news channel.

“We didn’t make the news,” he said with a smile. “At least not yet.”

Sudden tears prickled her eyes, and he must have seen the change because his eyes narrowed. He held his right hand out to her. She reached for him, and his big palm enfolded hers, giving instant connection and comfort. She drew in a deep breath and savored his masculine scent. He looked indomitable. So strong. One tear escaped down her cheek, then another.

She wiped at them with her other hand. “God. I don’t…I didn’t want to do this.”

His expression softened. “What?”

“This. Cry.”

“Ah, come here.” His voice turned deeper and tender.

He pulled her down into is lap, his arms wrapping her up in strength and security. She circled her arms around his neck. Laying her head on his shoulder, she allowed the tears to come. Soft, slow tears that brought gentle release. She couldn’t stop them, and his arms tightened around her waist and back. She shivered, and his fingers threaded into her hair. He reached to click off the television with the remote.

“It’s okay, Terra. It’s okay.”

How long she cried, she wasn’t certain. After awhile she drew back and looked at him.

“Want to get some sleep?” he asked. Just the word sleep triggered a yawn from her, and he laughed. “Yeah, I think you do.”

Heat filled her face. Because even though she suddenly felt as if a weight had settled on her, desire also hummed through her veins. She asked from his lap and he released her.

“Will you hold me while I sleep?” she asked, hoping he’d agree.

“Of course.”

They pulled back the comforter, blanket and sheets and crawled into it. She ached with a need for the healing balm of sleep. Whatever came after that…

He gathered her against his chest, the heat of his big body pulling her toward quick relaxation. Before she could form another thought, she fell asleep.