Oh, God. Ohgodohgodohgod.

She should’ve known that was what he would say. But to hear the words spoken aloud. With such calm certainty…

She shuddered. Of course, it wouldn’t really matter if he killed her or not. Once her father decided she was in need of killing, nothing and nobody would stop him. One way or another, her life was forfeit. She’d known that when she’d started this fiasco. But to die at the hands of a man she’d once loved—that was a cruel blow.

He almost acted as if he’d forgotten the way she used to moon over him like a love-struck calf. Was he playing some sort of sick cat-and-mouse game with her emotions? If so, it was working.

Frankly, it was a minor miracle he hadn’t killed her already, regardless of what information she might have on Eduardo. She briefly considered showing him her ace in the hole, the bit of information she planned to hold until last. But it wasn’t time. Not yet.

I’m going to kill you.

His words tolled like a death knell, announcing her demise. She should cut her losses and walk out that door this second. Except she had nowhere left to go. Contacting Dutch had been her last-ditch attempt to stay alive long enough to save her sister. Did she dare brazen it out with Dutch and pray like crazy he never followed through on his deadly promise? She knelt on the floor and dabbed clumsily with her napkin at the obscenely red spill of wine.

I’m going to kill you. And eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. His brother for her sister. She simply couldn’t tell him anything until Carina was safe. Far away from him and his cold sense of justice.

Dutch towered over her with a roll of paper towels. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll get it.”

She sat back on her heels, too rattled to stand. She watched him mop up the wine and pick up the broken pieces of glass. Quick. Efficient. Thorough.

With a last sweep of paper towel across the slate floor, he announced, “There. All gone.”

Just like her when this was all over. He moved with lethal grace to the kitchen and disposed of the mess. She still hadn’t mustered the strength to stand when he came back. He reached down and pulled her effortlessly to her feet.

He looked into her eyes, and somehow she found the strength of will to meet the iron resolve in his sapphire gaze. So. The battle was joined. The rules of engagement were understood. This was a duel to the death. To her death, to be precise.

She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. His gaze drifted to her neck. And then lower, examining her in leisurely fashion, as if measuring her for a take-down. Everywhere his gaze touched her she burned with icy fire, and her shivers intensified. Thankfully he stepped away, and she remembered to breathe again.

He held her chair for her and she sat down weakly. The combination of terror and intense awareness made it impossible to look up at him, even though she felt his gaze boring into the top of her head.

“I’m not going to hurt you tonight,” he said abruptly. “You asked for my protection, and I’m giving it to you. For now.”

But the day would come when he would turn on her. A sure and certain promise of it vibrated in his voice.

She couldn’t bear to think about it. She had to leave him. Now. She would just have to come up with another plan to save Carina. But what?

Hysteria swirled around her in a dizzying haze barely held in check. She was trapped. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

“What’s next on the agenda?” she asked, doing her best to mask her agitation.

He jerked his head toward the bedroom. Her brain skipped like a scratched record. He wanted to go in the bedroom with her? The idea fired her imagination in shocking ways.

He remarked, “You need to relax and get a good night’s sleep. Your nerves are frazzled, and you’re not thinking clearly.”

No kidding. For a second there, she thought he’d meant something else entirely. She’d actually hoped he meant something else.

She went into the bedroom with its stone fireplace, picture windows and huge bed. Four normal-size adults could sleep in that thing. She jumped as she sensed a movement behind her.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I just need some clothes.” He opened his suitcase, pulled out a sweat suit and headed for the door.

“Where are you going to sleep?” she asked.

“On the couch in the living room.”

She frowned. “It’s not nearly long enough for you. I’ll take the couch. You stay here.”

“Not a chance. Nobody’s getting past me out there. You’re safe tonight. Get some sleep.”

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been truly safe. Even before she escaped her father’s clutches, she’d never felt secure. His enemies, including agents of the various governments he’d flouted, were always waiting to strike. Like the man standing before her now.

“Julia? Are you all right?”

She jerked her attention back to him. He stood so close she could feel the heat radiating off him. No, she wasn’t all right! “I’m fine,” she managed to force out.

His eyes flashed their disbelief, but he merely stepped back politely and said, “Sweet dreams.” His deep voice sent a shiver down her spine and her cheeks burned.

Startled by the power of her reaction to him, she nodded wordlessly in return. The door closed quietly. She turned away from the knotty-pine panel. Shedding her clothes quickly, she dropped her nightgown over her head. The silk caressed her skin the same sensuous way she imagined his fingers would if things had been different. She crawled beneath the fluffy down comforter, and its flannel duvet cradled her in gentle warmth.

Restless, she rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Regret pierced her. In another time and place, she would have loved nothing more than to spend the night with James Dutcher. But it wasn’t meant to be. Their worlds had collided before, ending any chance they might have had now before it even began.

She would catch a nap for a couple of hours, give him time to get good and asleep, and then she would leave.

As tempting as it was to let him take care of her, she dared not stay with him. He was too smart. She should have known better than to contact him and bring him into this mess. He would figure out what she was really up to, and when he did, she and Carina were as good as dead.

It was dark and silent when she woke up. The mountain outside the window was a black silhouette against the night sky. The bedside clock said it was 3:20 a.m. Perfect.

She climbed out of bed and, shivering, pulled on clothes. She grabbed Dutch’s car keys from the bureau and her purse, which contained a few toiletries and her all important cash. Having met him again, having seen his intention to kill her, she simply couldn’t stay. She had no right to put Carina’s life further at risk. Her little sister had suffered enough. Julia would find some other way to save her.

Carrying her shoes, Julia eased the bedroom door open and tiptoed to the living room in her socks. A red glow came from the remains of the fire, casting a hellish light in the wide space. She made out Dutch’s long form stretched out on the couch, as magnificent as a dragon sprawled in its fiery lair. Even asleep, danger radiated from him. Holding her breath, she eased across the floor one careful step at a time. Cold seeped through her socks before she finally drew close to the door. She reached cautiously for the knob.

“Going somewhere?”

She jumped violently and spun around. Dutch loomed directly behind her, his expression stony. How in the world had he gotten right up to her without her hearing a thing?

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” she replied bravely.

“Care to tell me where?” Even roughened with sleep, his voice was cool and deadly.

“No, not particularly. I’ve got to get away from my father’s men, and I don’t want to endanger you any more than I already have. I’ll just be going now.” She again reached for the doorknob.

His large hand landed with heavy finality on the door in front of her face. “That’s a bad idea,” he murmured.

His breath touched her warmly in stark contrast to the chill pouring off him. There it was again. That strange pull between them. Something about this man called out to her, an odd vulnerability within his steel. It made her want to wrap her arms around him and hold him, even though on another level he scared her to death.

She turned under his arm and stared up at him. His face was an intersecting series of harsh shadows, his eyes pools of black. She ached to reach up and smooth away the frown from his forehead. His fathomless gaze narrowed and sexual awareness abruptly rolled off him. In waves that all but drowned her. His presence was overpowering even though he didn’t move a muscle. He made her feel so small. Fragile. The sensation was thrilling and frightening at the same time. Lord, it was tempting to bury herself in all that strength and masculine appeal. To solve the intriguing mystery that was Jim Dutcher.

“It’s for the best that I go,” she declared much more strongly than she felt.

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“Do you really have to ask?”

He leaned even closer, his mouth by her ear. His chest all but touched hers, and her breasts tingled at the tantalizing nearness of his body. The lingering remnants of his aftershave smelled warm and sexy.

He murmured in a lover’s endearment, “You’re responsible for my brother’s death. When you called me, you had to expect that I would want to hurt you the same way you hurt me. And it’s not like I came looking for you. But now that you’re here, I’m damned well going to see justice done.”

An icicle of dread speared into her heart. He wanted to hurt her the same way she’d hurt him.

Oh. My. God.

She was right. If he ever found out about Carina, he would have the perfect weapon for exacting the perfect revenge—kill one sibling in exchange for another. She could never let him find out about her fight to save her sister! If he did, he would do whatever it took to get Carina killed. It would be the perfect payback.

A violent shudder rippled through her. Pull yourself together! She dared not give away just how scared she was. He would leap all over her fear and use it to his advantage.

How could she be so drawn to him one second and so afraid of him the next? It made no sense whatsoever.

His other hand landed on the door beside her head, trapping her between his powerful arms. “What aren’t you telling me, Julia? I need to know everything if we’re going to nail Eduardo before he nails you. What is it?” he demanded softly.

She stared at him in dismay. Busted. As usual, he’d read her like an open book. But now she knew she could never answer that question. Ever. She replied, “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want your help.”

She felt him absorb her refusal to answer like a physical blow. She closed her eyes against the pull between them. She felt like a paper clip in the presence of a high-powered magnet. The haven of his care, the companionship of another human being in her solitary flight from death, his sheer masculine sex appeal were darned near irresistible.

She understood his anger. Could accept it. But she had to get over the past. Had to let go of the feelings for him she’d carried around inside her for all these years like a secret pearl hidden deep within the tightly closed shell of her heart.

She jumped when he trailed a finger down the length of her neck. His voice caressed her like black velvet. “You look like a caged swan. Give me a chance, my desperate Odile. I’ll keep you safe.”

Yes, but for how long? How long until her turned on her?

She blinked at the reference to the black swan from the ballet Swan Lake who was tragically manipulated by her evil father. An apt analogy. She let out a slow breath. Even his intelligence was seductive. How was she ever supposed to get over him?

He pushed away from the door and took a step back. “Come to bed. It’s late and your feet must be frozen. Let’s get them warmed up.”

There it was again. That natural consideration he lapsed into whenever he forgot to be furious at her. It sent her pulse pounding completely out of control. She shivered but not from the icy cold seeping between her toes. The inevitability of doom settled around her, but she was powerless to fight it. She followed him back to the bedroom and let him tuck her into bed like a child.

But she lurched when he started to climb in beside her. “What are you doing?” she exclaimed.

“Keeping an eye on you. I’m a very light sleeper. If you get out of bed again, it’ll wake me up.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’m not letting you run away before Eduardo’s behind bars.” His voice rang with hard finality.

She subsided against her pillow. Her fate was sealed. Doom lowered itself over her just like the blankets weighing her down.

But oddly, a tiny corner of her heart sighed in relief. Was she suicidal, deep in her heart? Or was she merely relieved he’d made her stay because he would protect her?

Or was it something else entirely? Something to do with the overwhelmingly male vibes rolling off him as he lay beside her, and the way something instinctive and female inside her responded? She lay there for a long time, staring at the ceiling, beside a man she wanted desperately. A man who had the reason and the resolve to kill her.

What in the world was she supposed to do now?

 

Dutch paused, listening to the raucous night sounds of the jungle around him. He slid forward a few more steps and paused again, careful not to disrupt the deafening chorus of noise. He was early for the rendezvous with the informant. Julia.

Even thinking her name sent his heart pounding deep and hard like a bass drum. A totally unprofessional reaction, but she was so damned beautiful she took his breath away. Every guy on the team had a crush on her, whether they admitted it or not. Hell, even Captain Foley made a point of shaving and putting on a clean uniform whenever he had to meet her.

Dutch grinned. But he was the one she made eye contact with. The one she smiled at shyly. Because she trusted him, hell, seemed to have a crush on him, he was the one who got to coordinate with her as the sting against her father drew near.

He still had a hard time believing she would help set up her own father. She didn’t seem like the defiant type. But then, her old man was an incredible bastard.

Eduardo Ferrare was a formidable criminal whose illegal empire had reached far enough into the United States to draw the attention of the federal government. A decision had been made to take him out, and the Blackjacks had been sent to Gavarone to do the job.

He pushed aside a giant fern and peered out at the path ahead. Julia should walk along here in about five minutes. They would have only a few seconds to exchange information, and then she would have to move on.

A rustle down the path made him jerk back under cover. Dammit. Eduardo’s men patrolled this path now and then. If they screwed up this rendezvous, he wouldn’t get to see Julia for two more days, until they met at the backup site. Besides the fact that his team desperately needed the information she was going to give them, he also didn’t want to wait that long to see her again.

He crouched in the lee of a giant tree trunk, completely still. A lone figure moved into view, and he sighed in relief. He would know that slender outline and graceful stride anywhere. She was early. He grinned and stood up. Wanted to spend a couple of extra minutes with him, did she?

He stepped out into the path, and even in the heavy shadows, he saw her features light up at the sight of him. Damn, that sort of reaction from a pretty girl made a guy feel good.

“Hey you,” he murmured as she drew near.

She kept coming until she’d walked straight into his arms. “Hey you,” she whispered back. “I missed you.”

His arms tightened around her. “I missed you, too. How was your day?”

“I never thought tonight would get here,” she confessed shyly. “I got scared again this afternoon.”

This whole business had been hard on her. She was only twenty, barely more than a girl, yet here she was doing the work of a seasoned special operations soldier. He stroked her silky hair comfortingly.

She jolted against him as a leopard screamed somewhere nearby. “I hate the jungle,” she declared. “I hate Gavarone.”

“It’s almost over. And then you can get out of here and never come back. I’ll take you back to the States myself if you’d like.”

She leaned back and smiled up at him. “I’d like that. I’d like to see your Montana.”

Her eyes glowed and his heart felt as if it was going to burst out of his chest. The sultry night vibrated around them, alive and breathing with lush life. Julia’s lips parted slightly as she gazed up at him, their fullness glistening in what little moonlight filtered down through the canopy above.

He shouldn’t do it. He should leave well enough alone. But she flowed like golden honey in his arms, warm and smooth, and he’d wanted to do this ever since he met her. He angled his head down and touched her mouth with his. And sweet God, she leaned into him and all but devoured him back. No hesitation, no coyness. She might be a girl, but she damned well kissed like a woman. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d lifted her off her feet against him and completely lost himself in her. Her fingers speared into his hair, tugging him closer, and he surrendered to her every bit as fully as she’d surrendered to him. How long they stood there, all but inhaling each other in mutual, desperate need, he had no idea.

A voice called out her name from behind them. Crap. Her bodyguard!

They broke apart, panting.

She murmured quickly, “My father has a meeting at midnight two nights from now at his compound. It’s important. He’ll be there for sure.”

“How’s he going to get there?” he asked fast.

“By car. Two more cars in front of him and one behind. All armored. Twelve to sixteen bodyguards. He’ll be a few minutes late and make his visitor wait for him.”

He nodded. “We’ll meet you behind the gazebo on the south side of the main driveway at 11:30 p.m. Don’t be late. Your safety will depend on it.”

She nodded her understanding, her eyes huge and frightened.

“Miss Julia? Where are you?”

Dutch looked over his shoulder. Time to go. But he couldn’t resist stealing a few more seconds with her. He gave her a quick, hard hug and kissed her fast. The fear in her eyes morphed into adoration. He released her and gave her a gentle push toward her bodyguard. “Scoot. I’ll see you in two days, and we’ll begin your new life, together.”

With a last, melting smile, she hurried off down the path. He stepped back quickly, melting silently into the darkness…

He jerked awake, battle ready. Something or someone had just touched him. But the room was dark. Silent. No movement. The bedroom of the ski chalet materialized around him. Julia. Her soft hand rested on his upper arm. Their embrace in the jungle was still so fresh, so raw, he started to roll over and take her in his arms again.

Whoa. Reality check, here. That was a dream. Just a dream.

Or was it?

He could smell the rotten vegetation, feel the mosquitoes landing on his neck, recall exactly the wispy slide of her skirt wrapping around his thighs as they kissed. And that kiss. He couldn’t dream up something that vivid if he tried. And that meant…

It was a memory! A piece of that missing month in his life. Julia must have triggered it. Holy cow. If he spent more time with her, would she trigger more recollections? Was it possible for him to regain that entire lost month?

A voice whispered in his head, did he really want to regain that particular month of his life? Did he want to relive the loss of his baby brother, and the loss of a girl he was crazy about, if that dream was accurate?

He stared up at the ceiling in dismay. He’d been half in love with Julia Ferrare? No wonder he was having such a weird reaction to her now. One second he wanted to wring her neck, and the next he wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let her go. What in the bloody hell was he supposed to do now?

He muttered a curse under his breath.

To most of the people whose lives he entered, he was Death. They could run from him and they could hide, but he would hunt them down. He always did. The frightened faces of the dozens of criminals he’d nailed through the years floated through his mind. What stuck with him wasn’t the moment he killed them. It was always the moment when he first met them face-to-face. When they still hoped to get out alive. Before they realized he was their inexorable fate.

Julia had looked like that when he’d caught her trying to sneak out earlier. Was she a criminal like the others? Disquiet rippled through him. He didn’t genuinely want to turn the hunter in himself loose on her, no matter his earlier intentions or what he’d told her tonight. Or did he?

Since when didn’t he know his own mind?

Since this woman had stolen a chunk of his life from him.

Now she seemed to be giving it back, though—for better or worse.

Had that dark, inhuman part of himself he’d discovered in the jungles of Gavarone, that he held in check so carefully, finally broken out? Was that what had taken over his mind during his inexplicable blackouts earlier? Was he losing control of the beast within?

An unfamiliar emotion rolled over him, choking him until he struggled to breathe. Fear. He’d fought for so long to tame the monster, to keep the violent part of himself that had been unleashed that summer long ago reined in. The psychologists had warned him it was a delicate dance and that he was skating very close to the edge. But was it too late? Had the beast won?

Julia shifted restlessly, troubled by her dreams. She rolled over and flung an arm and a leg across his body. He froze beneath her. Lust pounded through him, roaring in his ears and demanding release upon the sleek female draped across him with such abandon. The turmoil bubbling in his brain intensified.

Flashes of golden skin poised above him—a lush, laughing mouth teasing him—dark eyes going limpid and hot as she rode his body into oblivion—thrusting up into her hard, pulling her hips down to meet him--

Dammit! Why couldn’t he remember more than these tantalizing flashes? They were too vivid for dreams and too vague for actual memory. And frustrating as hell. Yet again, the weight and driving need of a hard-on promised to keep him awake for a good long time, tonight.

He had to assume he and Julia had been lovers, given that she had the gall to call him now and ask for this giant favor. He could imagine it had been hot and heavy since passion practically oozed from this woman’s pores. That and he could barely keep his hands off her even though he was still giving serious thought to killing her.

It didn’t help matters that she seemed more than willing to pick up where they’d apparently left off.

It was tempting, to be sure. He was no monk, and she was sex incarnate. It would be so easy to roll over, to pull her beneath him, to bury himself in her sweet body and ravage her mindlessly. To succumb to his baser self once and for all.

No! Forcibly he held himself still, letting her use his body as she would for safety and warmth. He would protect her. Guard her innocence with his life if he had to. He would not harm her. Not yet. Not until the Blackjacks had what they needed from her.

The litany replayed itself in his head endlessly as the night stretched out around him. Slowly, slowly, he won the battle against his dark side. One muscle at a time, he gradually let go of his tension, gradually went still in spirit as the beast retreated from his mind. He’d won. This time. Julia’s innocence and her life remained intact as she slept on beside him.

But as the light of dawn seeped insidiously between the curtains, fear sidled into his mind once more. What was it about this woman that brought him so close to the brink? Did he dare stay with her? Would keeping his promise to protect her destroy him? Would he take her with him when he went?

With morning came howling winds, blizzard conditions, and subzero wind chill. There would be no helicopter skiing today. They were snowed in.

He built a fire and made a pot of coffee while Julia slept the deep, hard sleep of someone who’d been on the run for weeks and had finally found a safe place to rest. While the storm raged outside, he pondered the dilemma of the woman in his bed.

Late in the morning she emerged, swallowed in his bathrobe, her hair tangled, and squinting at the bright light. She’d never looked more beautiful or more fuckable. He gritted his teeth and willed his dick to control itself. Nope. Not listening. A hard-on swelled behind his zipper, filling his jeans and making him acutely uncomfortable.

“Hi,” she mumbled shyly.

“Good morning,” he ground out from behind clenched teeth. “Sleep all right?”

“Mmm, wonderfully. Sorry about…uh…interrupting your rest last night.”

He tried to smile but suspected it came out more a grimace of pain. “No harm done. Just as long as we’re clear that you’re staying with me.” He got up, turned his back to her to hide his reaction to her, and headed for the kitchen. Christ. His legs would barely support him, so horny was he. The woman drove him to his knees with lust.

“Do you like coffee?” he called.

“Almost as much as sex.,” she called back.

Kill me now. “Cream or sugar?”

“Both.”

“How much?”

She laughed. “Think coffee-flavored ice cream and you’ll have it about right.”

He handed her a steaming mug and sat down across from her at the table. He pushed the Wall Street Journal toward her and she leaped upon it like a starving dog.

He watched her silently as she devoured the newspaper front to back. Okay, so maybe the accountant thing was legit. He was too damned suspicious sometimes. She checked several stock quotes and spent a long time perusing international monetary fund prices. He would bet his next paycheck that was where her father’s illegal money was invested.

Surreptitiously, he watched Julia stand up and do a few stretching exercises. She must do yoga or something similar for she was as limber as a pretzel. A couple of seriously depraved ideas of what they could with that flexibility of hers flashed across his brain. Damned if that wasn’t sweat popping out on his forehead. If he didn’t get out of here right now, he was going to attack her like some slavering animal and try out a few of his ideas. “I’ve got to get out of here,” he announced, standing up abruptly.

He had to put some distance between them right now. Otherwise, she would be in grave danger. From him