THE TEXAS TATTLER

All the news that’s barely fit to print!

Honeymoon Horror

Danger was the last thing honeymooners Dawson and Matilda Fortune Prescott expected on a rustic getaway following their lovely whirlwind marriage. But wedding bells turned to gunshots when the new Mrs. Prescott went for a woodsy walk.

“I heard a twig snap behind me, then a bullet zinged past my head and landed in a tree,” Matilda told The Tattler. “I was terrified and I guess I fainted.”

Inside the log cabin love nest her new hubby heard shots and raced outside to find his wife slumped on the forest floor. She was uninjured. Police extracted a pistol bullet from a tree, but they have no other hard evidence. Notorious Red Rock ruffian Clint Lockhart tops the list of suspects. Lockhart holds a longtime grudge against the Fortunes that festered into heinous acts once before when he was convicted of murdering Sophia Fortune. Lockhart escaped prison a few months ago and remains at large.

“I know Lockhart is to blame. And he will pay mightily,” Dawson told reporters.

In related news, it seems that Willa Simms, godchild to mogul Ryan Fortune, has gone missing…and so has “bodyguard” Griffin Fortune, brother to Matilda. Sources confirm that their disappearance is related to the shooting. Does their hiding out foretell another close call—for a Fortune’s bachelorhood?

Meet the Fortunes of Texas

Griffin Fortune: He was just doing his job—keeping lovely professor Willa Simms safely hidden away in a cozy mountain cabin. But the longer he was secluded with her, the harder it became to guard his untouchable heart against her beguiling innocence.

Willa Simms: She had never felt anything as overwhelming as her passion for the covert operative. But she was a woman who wanted home and hearth and he dodged danger on a daily basis. Would love overcome their differences so they could make a life together?

Teddy Fortune: The family patriarch longed for his sons and daughter to find the same happiness he has in his own marriage to their mother. Dare he hope that his fondest wish would come true?

To Love and Protect Her
Margaret Watson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author

MARGARET WATSON

is a passionate reader who has always loved romance. Even when she was reading Nancy Drew books, she was fascinated by Nancy’s relationship with Ned. When she outgrew Nancy Drew, she moved on to Mary Stewart, Victoria Holt and Helen MacInnes. Then she discovered Georgette Heyer, and she’s never looked back. Margaret is a voracious reader who loves just about any kind of book, but romance and romantic suspense have always been her favorites. She loves exploring the intricacies of relationships and is a sucker for a happy ending. She began writing more than eleven years ago and realized immediately that it was what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

Margaret lives in Naperville, Illinois, with her husband and three daughters. She is fortunate enough to be involved in two careers that she loves. When she’s not writing or spending time with her family, she practices veterinary medicine in Chicago. But writing is definitely her first love. She spends as much time as she can at her computer, working on her stories. When people ask why she does both, she tells them that veterinary medicine is her job, but writing is her passion. And being a romantic through and through, she always follows her heart.

For Bill, who makes all of my dreams come true.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

One

This was the last place Griffin Fortune wanted to be.

He sat in his truck outside Willa Simms’s apartment, staring at the door of the upscale, quietly tasteful building, and reflected that those qualities could also perfectly describe Willa. Which was why he didn’t want to be here. Willa Simms was way out of his league.

But he had promised his uncle, Ryan Fortune, that he would take a look at Willa’s security system and make sure she was all right, so he’d driven the two hours into College Station from the Fortune’s Double Crown Ranch. It was the least he could do for Ryan, who had been a generous host to the recently discovered Australian branch of the Fortune family.

He’d only be here for a few hours, he told himself. For a few hours, he could ignore the way Willa stirred his blood. Self-control was second nature to him. And if he found that self-control strained whenever he was around Willa, no one else needed to know.

The glow from the streetlights glistened on the rain-slicked pavement as he watched the door to her apartment. “The place looks safe enough to me,” he muttered to himself. He scowled at the attractive, sturdy building. But he wouldn’t leave without checking it out thoroughly. He’d given Ryan his word, and Griff always kept his promises.

“Might as well get it over with. Hell!” he exclaimed as he stepped out of the truck and into the cold drizzle. “December is a damn uncomfortable season in Texas.”

He had just stepped away from his truck when the door of the apartment building burst open from the inside. Two housepainters dressed in white overalls and with painter’s caps pulled down low over their faces, hurried out the door. They carried a rolled-up rug between them, and they seemed to be in a hurry.

Who wouldn’t be, on a night like this? Griff thought sourly. Out of habit, he watched as the painters headed in the opposite direction. Even when he was off duty, he paid attention to his surroundings.

As the painters approached the side of the building, the rug they carried began to wriggle. Griff narrowed his eyes and, without thinking, began to run.

“Hey, there,” he shouted at the painters. “What are you doing?”

The person in the front glanced back at him, then raised his hand and smashed something down on the rug. It stopped wriggling, and Griff broke into a sprint.

He was gaining on the painters and their burden. They struggled to move faster, but it was clear to Griff that whatever they carried was heavy, and it was slowing them down. As he got closer, the person in the lead took one more look at him and said something to the other person. Then they dropped the rug and ran.

They jumped into a dark blue van that had no windows and no signs on the doors. Griff squinted to read the license number, but the van was too far away and the light was too dim. He was reluctant to leave the rug and its contents lying on the cold, damp ground.

The van tore out of the parking lot, its tires squealing, and disappeared into the night. He watched it leave with a flash of regret that he hadn’t been able to stop the two housepainters. Then he bent down to examine the rolled-up rug that was now lying in a puddle of water.

Although it was no longer moving, it was roughly the size and shape of a person, and Griff’s heart began to pound. What had he interrupted? As he unrolled the carpet, a throaty moan from inside the bundle made him freeze for a moment. Then his hands flew as he pulled the carpet apart.

“Willa!” He stared in shock at Ryan Fortune’s goddaughter. She lay still and unmoving, her face pale and her eyes closed. Her glasses dangled from her right ear, the frame bent and twisted. There was a nasty gash over her left ear, and a trickle of blood trailed down her cheek. A lump was already forming around the cut.

“Willa, can you hear me?” he asked, placing his hand on her neck. Her pulse felt strong and steady, and his own heart rate steadied a bit.

She moaned again, and her eyelashes began to flutter. “No!” she cried. He heard the terror in her voice, and damned the two people who had done this to her.

“It’s all right, Willa. Those two men are gone. I’m Griffin Fortune. Do you remember me?”

Her eyes slowly opened, and she stared at him, her blue-gray gaze unfocused. “Griff?” she whispered.

“Right. It’s Griff.” He subdued the ridiculous surge of pleasure that she had remembered him. “Can you sit up?”

She stared at him for a moment, then nodded. She winced immediately, and a murderous rage swept over him. “Let me help you.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, forbidding himself to think about how soft she felt, and how well she fit into his embrace. Willa had been injured, for God’s sake. “Easy does it, mate.”

She closed her eyes and clung to him, and he realized that her coat was soaking wet. The water from the puddle had seeped through the rug. He’d have to get her inside as quickly as possible. He didn’t want her to get chilled in the cold rain.

“Can you stand up?” he asked, glancing toward the parking lot. He half expected the blue van to reappear at any moment, and he wanted to be safely away from the apartment before that happened.

“I think so.”

She held on to him and pulled herself to her feet. Griff saw her grimace, reflecting a spasm of pain, and his admiration for Willa increased. She was apparently a lot tougher than she seemed to be.

“That’s the way, Blue.”

She gave him a quizzical look, then took a step toward her apartment. She stopped immediately, and Griff saw her swaying on her feet. “I seem to be a bit unsteady,” she said, her voice faint. “Could you help me into my apartment, Mr. Fortune?”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he said, watching for the blue van. “And what’s with the Mr. Fortune stuff? It was Griff just a few moments ago.”

A faint red color washed her cheeks. “You can hardly hold me responsible for what I said after I had fainted.”

“We’ll discuss that later,” he said, slipping his arm around her again. Once again, a sense of rightness swept over him. He told himself to ignore it. “And just for the record, you didn’t faint. Someone coshed you over the head.”

The red disappeared from her face, leaving her pale and puzzled looking. “Why would someone do that? And why am I out here, and all wet?”

“Let’s get in out of the rain,” he said, urging her toward his truck. He didn’t want to go back into her apartment. He had no idea what or who he might find waiting for them.

When she saw that he was leading her away from the apartment rather than toward it, she stopped. “Where are we going?”

“Let’s go sit in my truck for a few minutes. It’s warm there.”

“All right.” Without question, she turned and let him lead her toward the truck. Her complete trust shook him. Willa had better learn not to be so trusting, he thought harshly. Her enemies—and apparently she had some—would use that against her.

He helped her into the truck, then got in on the driver’s side and locked the door. Turning the heat on full blast, he began to unbutton her coat.

“What are you doing?” she asked, pushing his hands away.

“Your coat is wet. You need to take it off and put on something dry.”

He eased the wet wool off her shoulders, then shrugged out of his own worn leather jacket. He wrapped it around her shoulders, and she seemed to burrow into it. “Is that better?” he asked gruffly.

“Mmm.”

Gently he pushed the hair away from the cut on her head, and felt his mouth tightening again. The gash had stopped bleeding already, but the skin around it was swollen and bruised. “Do you remember what happened, Willa?”

She looked over at him, and he saw the confusion in her gorgeous blue-gray eyes. “I’m not sure.”

“You have your coat on. Were you going into your apartment, or leaving?”

She stared at him, and he saw her effort as she tried to remember. “I was coming home from the university,” she finally said. “I got my mail from my mailbox, and I was walking up the stairs.”

“Then what happened?”

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “There were painters in the hall. They were painting the wall, and they said something to me. That’s all I remember.”

“Do you remember what they said?”

“No.” She tried to shake her head, and winced with pain.

He reached out and took her hand, telling himself she needed someone to hold on to. He didn’t want to examine his need to touch her, to reassure himself. “Did you go into your apartment?” Was there someone in there still, waiting for her?

“I don’t know. All I remember is seeing the painters and hearing their voices. I don’t remember anything else until I heard your voice.”

She flushed pink again, and he wondered why. Then she turned to him. “What are you doing here, Mr. Fortune?”

“I like it better when you call me Griff,” he said, and he gave her a quick smile. “We’re not very formal down in Australia. And I’m here because your godfather asked me to check on your security system. He was worried about you.”

Willa eased herself carefully back against the seat and turned to face him. “I mentioned that I’d been getting hang-up phone calls, and he got upset. He wanted me to get a security system, and I told him I would. I didn’t think he’d get you involved.”

“It’s a good thing he did. If I hadn’t been here, you’d have been kidnapped.”

He regretted his blunt words when she paled again. “Why would anyone want to kidnap me? It’s not as if I have anything anyone wants. I’m not a famous person, and I don’t have any money.”

“Maybe it was just a random attack,” he said, although he doubted it. It sounded as if the supposed painters had been waiting for Willa. He didn’t want to remind her that her godfather had a lot of money. “The reason doesn’t matter, though. It happened, and now we have to decide what to do about it.”

“We should go back into my apartment and call the police,” Willa said.

“No. We’re not going back into your apartment.”

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t know who those two were, or if they had any help. There may be someone waiting for you in your apartment.”

She stared at him, fear welling in her eyes. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I did.” His voice was grim. “We need to get away from here. I don’t want to be around if those two come back to finish the job they started. Let’s get you to a hospital.”

He put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. He didn’t like the smell of this. His sister Matilda had been shot at and almost killed while she was on her honeymoon. Everyone had suspected Clint Lockhart was involved, but so far they couldn’t prove anything. He didn’t know if the attack on Willa was connected, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

Even though Clint was Ryan’s brother-in-law by his first wife and therefore one of the family, he’d held a grudge against the Fortunes for years. He believed they had stolen his father’s ranch out from under him, taking advantage of his financial difficulties. His desire for revenge had caused him to plot with Ryan’s estranged wife Sophia in an effort to exhort money from Ryan. When things went sour, he’d killed Sophia. He’d escaped from prison several months ago, and the family had lived in fear ever since.

Yes, until he had some answers, he was going to stick close to Willa.

“Where’s the nearest hospital?” he asked her as he waited to turn onto the street.

“I don’t need to go to a hospital.” Her voice sounded stronger, and she touched the lump on her head. He saw her wince, even in the dim light. “It’s just a lump on the head.”

“You should probably get it checked.”

“I’m fine, Griff.” She touched it again. “They’ll just tell me to take two aspirins and call them in the morning.” She gave him a weak smile, and his heart rate increased. Even injured and frightened, she was able to make a joke at her own expense.

He didn’t want to go to the hospital, either, but for a different reason. He was afraid that the kidnappers would be expecting them to go to a hospital, and be waiting there for them. And he didn’t want to take that chance. With the medical training he’d had as part of his job he could probably tend to Willa’s injuries. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Positive.” Her voice was firm. “Let’s go call the police.”

He hesitated. “I’m not sure we should do that.”

“Why not?” She turned in her seat toward him, and he saw the bewilderment in her face. “Someone tried to kidnap me. Why wouldn’t we call the police?”

“I’m not used to relying on the police,” he finally said. “But maybe you’re right. We should let them know. The kidnappers might come back to your apartment. The police can at least keep an eye out for them.”

He pulled over to the side of the road and took his cellular phone out of his jacket pocket. He had to bend close to Willa to reach it, and her scent curled around him. It wasn’t the demure floral scent he would have expected. It was sharp and tangy, reminding him of wild, elemental things that he had no business connecting with Willa.

He leaned as far away from her as he could and dialed 9-1-1. When the police answered, he told them what had happened, gave them a description of the van and the two kidnappers, then told them he was taking Willa away to keep her safe. He didn’t tell them where he was going. Cutting off their sputtering questions, he snapped the phone closed and set it on the floor.

“Okay, we’ve called the police.”

Willa had leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes while he talked. Now she opened them and gave him a tiny grin. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind. You didn’t give them a lot to work with.”

“I told them as much as we knew.”

“Didn’t they want to talk to me?”

“They did.” He scowled at her. “But I’m not letting anyone close to you until we figure out who tried to snatch you, and why. Not even the police.”

Willa felt a soft warmth stealing over her as she looked at Griff. His hard face was even harder than usual, and his mouth was set in a grim line. He looked formidable and dangerous, and the wild part of him, the part that had drawn her from the first time she met him, was very close to the surface.

“Then what are we going to do?” She was amazed at how calm she sounded. But she trusted him completely, she realized. Griff would keep her safe.

“We’re going to leave,” he said slowly. “We’re going to go somewhere that no one will expect us to go. Somewhere far from College Station and your godfather’s ranch.”

“You don’t think Ryan has anything to do with this, do you?” She was horrified.

“Of course not. But that’s where someone would expect you to go, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” she said reluctantly. “He’s the only family I have.”

“Then we’re going in the opposite direction.” He glanced at his watch, then pulled the truck away from the curb. “Ryan told me about a little cabin in the mountains near El Paso that his sister-in-law Mary Ellen owns. Her son used it recently, and it sounded quiet and isolated—perfect for hiding. We’re going to try and find it.”

“El Paso is a long way from here,” she said faintly.

He glanced over at her in the darkness of the truck. “Would you rather not go that far with me? I’d understand. You don’t really know me that well.”

She knew him well enough to trust him completely, she realized. She had no hesitation about going to El Paso, or anywhere else, with Griff. “It’s not that. I’ve just never taken off like this before, without planning ahead of time. I’ve never been a really spontaneous kind of person.”

“I’m sure I can think of somewhere else to go.”

“No. El Paso is fine.” A recklessness she didn’t recognize swept over her. “The farther the better.”

His mouth curled into a tiny grin. “For someone who’s never been a really spontaneous kind of person, I’d say you’re doing just fine.”

“You’ll keep me safe, Griff. I’m not worried about that.”

“What about your job? Don’t you have to teach at the university?”

“Classes are off for Christmas break. So no one will miss me. I can go wherever I want to go.”

“Being a loner isn’t always a good thing.”

She glanced over at him and his mouth was a tight line.

“If those two had succeeded,” he continued, “how long would it have been before you were missed?”

That was something she didn’t want to think about. “Are you saying I should be checking in with someone on a regular basis?”

“It wouldn’t hurt.”

“Who do you check in with, Griff?” Her voice held just the right amount of polite enquiry, she thought with satisfaction.

His mouth tightened further. “That’s different. I know how to take care of myself.”

“So do I. You probably don’t know it, but I traveled the world with my father while I was growing up.” She felt the same pull of grief and pain that always came when she talked about her father. “I learned very early how to take care of myself.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” His voice was rough. “I’m talking about protecting yourself.”

“I’ve taken a self-defense class. I know what to do.”

“It sure helped tonight, didn’t it.”

She looked away from him and stared out the window. Already the town was falling behind them, and the car passed rolling hills and open pasture. Her home and her job were behind them. And she hoped the kidnappers were, as well. “Now that I know someone wants to kidnap me, I’ll be prepared. I’ll be more alert.”

She heard him sigh. “Sorry, Willa. I didn’t mean to pick on you. And you’re not going to have to worry about being alone for a while. As long as those kidnappers are around, I’m going to be with you until we find out who they are, and catch them.”

A flash of pleasure warmed her, surprising her with its intensity. Willa tried to tell herself that it wasn’t a big deal, that Griff was just doing her godfather, Ryan, a favor, but it didn’t matter. The thought of spending the next few days alone with Griff Fortune made her blood heat in her veins.

But she wasn’t Griff’s type of woman, she reminded herself. Griff, she was sure, was interested in worldly, sophisticated women—the kind of women who traveled in the same circles as he did. Rumors in the Fortune family said Griff was some kind of secret agent. A man like that wouldn’t want to get involved with a quiet, homebody university professor like her.

And a quiet university professor shouldn’t be interested in a man like Griff.

The rebellious part of her, the part that wasn’t sure she liked being a university professor, yearned for the wildness of Griff’s life. The part of her that had loved traveling around the world, loved the adventure of life with her father, said Griff was exactly the kind of man she was interested in. But she ignored it. If she listened to that voice, it would be a betrayal of her father and everything he wanted for her.

“We have a long ride ahead of us.” Griff’s voice came out of the darkness again. “And you had a rough night. Why don’t you try to get some rest?”

“It’s hard to sleep in a car,” she said. “I always wake up with a stiff neck.”

“You can rest your head on my shoulder. That way I can check you frequently to make sure you don’t have a concussion.” He cleared his throat. “Go ahead and relax.”

“That would be uncomfortable for you.”

“I’ll survive.” There was a grimness to his voice she didn’t understand. “One of us might as well get some sleep.”

“I am a little tired,” she said, and she heard the weariness in her own voice.

“Then come on, Blue. Close your eyes.”

She curled up on the seat, adjusted her seat belt, and leaned against his shoulder. His muscles were tense and hard beneath her ear, and when she shifted around, she felt him tremble. But the rumble of the truck’s engine soothed her, and the warmth of Griff’s body surrounded her—she felt herself relaxing.

“Why did you call me Blue?” she asked, her voice sleepy.

“It’s an Australian nickname for someone with red hair.”

His voice washed over her, and she snuggled closer. She felt him tense again, and then his hand stroked over her hair. “Go to sleep, Willa.”

“Keep talking to me,” she said, tucking her hand under his arm. “Why do Australians call people with red hair ‘Blue’? That sounds kind of contrary.”

“That’s because Australians are contrary.” She heard the smile in his voice. “Blue is also what we call an argument. I guess people think that redheads are more likely to get into arguments.”

“I think that’s unfair. I’m very even tempered.”

“Is that right?” He stroked her hair again, and she wanted to arch into his touch. “I’ll remember you said that next time you’re giving me grief over my protecting you.”

She imagined that he touched her hair again, very lightly, and she thought his hand lingered on her head. She wanted to beg him not to stop, but she clamped her mouth firmly shut. It was the blow to the head, she told herself. It was making her want things she knew she couldn’t have. It made her yearn for what couldn’t be.

Silence filled the car again. “Don’t stop talking,” she said, and her voice was drowsy with sleep. “I love to listen to you. Your accent is so musical.”

“I don’t have an accent, mate,” he said, exaggerating his drawl. “It’s you Yanks who talk funny.”

She smiled and allowed herself to drift to the place between sleep and wakefulness. “Tell me about your sister. I like her so much.”

“She’s something, our Matilda is.” Willa heard the love mixed with resignation in his voice. “She’s a handful. It took me and all four of my brothers to keep an eye on her.”

“I bet she loved that.”

“She’s a lot like you, Willa. She was sure she could take care of herself, too.”

“I know her well enough to know that she can.” She was too tired to rise to his bait. “Can you tell me about Australia?”

He hesitated, then he began speaking in a low, soothing voice, describing the beauty of his country. As she drifted off to sleep, she realized that he was deliberately lulling her, but she didn’t care. Her head still hurt, and she was exhausted. And although she was driving through the night to an unknown destination with a man she didn’t know all that well, she felt amazingly content.

She was with Griff, and that was all that mattered.

Two

“Wake up, Willa.”

The voice intruded on her dreams, and she closed her eyes more firmly and tried to hang on as the dream faded into the mist. She was dreaming about Griff, and his hand was drawing a long, lazy line down her back. She didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want the dream to end.

“Come on, Willa, it’s time to wake up.”

It was Griff’s voice, and his hand was touching her shoulder. Slowly she opened her eyes. She was lying on his lap, and his brown eyes were looking down at her, concern in their warm depths.

She scrambled to sit up. “Griff?” She pushed her hair out of her eyes and stared at him. “What are you doing here? And where are we?”

“We’re in El Paso—” he began.

“El Paso!” she gasped. “What are we doing in El Paso?”

He hesitated. “Don’t you remember what happened last night?”

Last night. Suddenly all the events of the night before came flooding back. “I had forgotten,” she whispered.

“How’s your head?”

She touched the lump on her left temple. “It hurts,” she said. “But I’m sure I’ll survive.”

He worked his jaw. “I’ll take care of it when we get to the cabin. I thought we’d stop in here first and get some groceries and other things we’ll need.”

She looked out the window of the truck and saw that they were in the parking lot of a store that advertised one-stop shopping. “All right.”

Before she could get out of the car, Griff laid his hand on her arm. Her skin heated and her heart raced, but Griff didn’t seem to notice a thing.

“I’m not going to say anything in the store,” he said. “We don’t want anyone remembering the bloke with the funny accent.”

Willa felt herself pale as she looked at him. “Do you think the kidnappers could have followed us from College Station?”

“No one followed us. I’m sure of that. But we don’t want to take any chances, so I’m keeping my mouth shut.”

He drew his hand away, and Willa felt bereft. She wanted to reach for him, but instead curled her fingers into her palm. She’d better get hold of herself. She was going to be spending a lot of time with Griff.

They went through the store quickly, loading their shopping cart with food and a couple of changes of clothes for each of them. Willa grabbed toiletries, as well as a handful of books to read.

In a half hour they were back in the truck. Griff’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, and he didn’t look at Willa. “I have to call Ryan and get directions to the cabin,” he said. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Are you having second thoughts?” she asked. “I didn’t even think to ask if you could spare the time to stay with me.”

“My time isn’t a problem,” he said, his voice short. “I want to be sure you understand that we’re going to be alone together, possibly for a while. Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere else?”

She was too aware of Griff, sitting so close to her in the car. Surrounded by his male scent, his leather jacket still wrapped around her shoulders, her senses were overwhelmed with him. The air around them pulsated with tension. Spending time alone with Griff would be dangerous.

“I’m sure,” she said.

Griff studied Willa for a moment. Her eyes were heavy with fatigue and the bruise on her temple stood out sharply on her pale face. But he saw the resolution in her eyes and nodded with approval. “Good. I’ll call Ryan, then.”

Willa was a lot tougher than he’d suspected, he reflected as he listened to the phone connecting. She was a lady, and he hadn’t spent much time around ladies in his life. He had been prepared for tears and a quivering fearfulness. But Willa had just lifted her chin and given him a steady look. He was almost ready to believe her when she said she could take care of herself.

Almost, but not quite.

She was too trusting, too good-hearted to be as wary as she needed to be. She probably trusted anyone who didn’t actually wave a gun in her face, he thought cynically. If anyone needed a keeper, it was Willa Simms.

He wanted nothing more than to volunteer for the job.

And wouldn’t that be a sight. Wild Griffin Fortune, with his dubious personal background and his present unsavory job, involved with genteel Willa Simms, university professor.

If it weren’t so ludicrous, his fantasy would be good for a laugh. As it was, it was merely pathetic.

He had absolutely nothing in common with Willa. As if to remind him of that fact, his Uncle Ryan’s voice came on the phone.

“Ryan, it’s Griff. We’ve run into a bit of trouble.”

“What is it?” Griff could imagine Ryan sitting up straight in his chair, his eyebrows drawn together.

Griff quickly explained what had happened at Willa’s the night before. “We’re in another part of the state now,” he said, aware that it was all too easy to eavesdrop on a cellular phone call. “I remember you mentioned a cabin that Mary Ellen owns. The one that Jace used recently. Could you give me directions?”

“Of course.” Ryan told him how to get to the isolated cabin, being careful not to mention any names that could give away their location. And he told him obliquely where the key was hidden. Ryan was quick, Griff thought with appreciation.

“We’re going to stay there for a while. You might want to get some investigators into College Station, see what they can find out. I’d rather not expose Willa to another kidnapping attempt.”

“Thank God you got to her apartment when you did.”

Griff could hear the emotion in Ryan’s voice.

“Are you sure she’s all right?”

“She will be. Your goddaughter is tough,” he said.

There must have been surprise in his voice, because Ryan laughed. “Damn right, she’s tough. She gets that from her old man. He was one hard guy. Let me talk to her.”

He handed the phone to Willa and watched her as she listened to Ryan. Her eyes softened and her mouth trembled as she smiled. Finally she said, “I’m fine, Ryan, and so is Griff. I hope you don’t mind if we use Mary Ellen’s cabin.”

She smiled again as she listened, and a low laugh gurgled out of her throat. Its husky sound wound its way inside him and seemed to take hold. He wanted to hear that laugh of Willa’s again.

Smiling, she said goodbye and handed him the phone. “Ryan says he trusts you with my life.”

Griff scowled, irritated by his inability to control his desire for Willa. “He knows damn well he can trust me with your life. I’d never let a family member down.”

Willa’s smile faded a little. “I’m glad you take your family obligations so seriously.” She shifted to stare out the window of the truck, but he’d caught the hurt in her eyes before she turned away.

Griff watched her stiff back, felt the tension swirling through the cab of the truck, and sighed. “Hell, Willa, you know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Do I? I know practically nothing about you,” she retorted. “And for the record, you don’t owe me any explanations.” Her voice was cool, and she didn’t turn around. “We’re in an unfortunate situation, but that doesn’t mean that I’ll intrude in your life. You can be sure I won’t be a burden.”

She was as far from a burden as he could imagine, and he wanted nothing more than to have Willa intrude in his life. The realization brought a knot to his gut. He gripped the steering wheel more tightly. “Willa, I wouldn’t have brought you here to El Paso if I didn’t care what happened to you. If I were just doing a favor for Ryan, I would have taken you back to the Double Crown Ranch. I didn’t mean it that way.”

Willa turned around and looked at him, but her eyes were carefully blank. “I’m sorry if I misunderstood, Griff. Shouldn’t we be on our way?”

He swore silently as he put the truck into gear and pulled out of the parking lot a little more quickly than he should have. “You’re right. We don’t want to stay here long enough to give anyone a chance to remember us.”

They rode in silence for a while, tension still thick between them. He was shocked to realize that he wanted to pull Willa into his arms and show her just how much he cared about what happened to her. Telling himself again that he was too rough and untamed for a woman like Willa, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and listened to the hum of the tires on the asphalt.

Taking Willa to this cabin, staying alone there with her, was a huge mistake. He should have known better. He’d known from the first time he saw Willa that she would be trouble. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. And now he was going to be cooped up with her in a tiny cabin, with nothing else to do but look at her. And talk to her.

He should turn around right now and go back to the Double Crown Ranch.

But he couldn’t take any chances with her, so he continued on the route out of El Paso. When the road began climbing into the mountains, he forced himself to say to her, “Have you ever been to this part of Texas?”

“No,” she answered. Her voice was carefully even, and he couldn’t interpret her tone. “Before I moved to College Station, the only part of Texas I’d visited was the Double Crown and San Antonio.”

“Keep an eye on the area,” he said gruffly. “You never know when you’ll need to find your way around here.”

Her eyes widened as she stared at him. “What do you mean?”

She seemed more puzzled than shocked, and he sighed at her naiveté. “We don’t know what’s going to happen in the next several days. I want you to be prepared for anything.”

He felt her eyes on him, studying him. “I think I understand what Ryan meant,” she finally said slowly. “Don’t worry, Griff. I could get us back to El Paso if I had to, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“What did Ryan say?” he asked, unable to stop himself.

To his surprise, a faint smile played around her lips. “He said that you always think three steps ahead of everyone else. He said that you’d managed to surprise even him. Now I understand what he meant. I can practically see you thinking as you drive, preparing for any possibility.”

“I learned a long time ago that you only survive if you’re smarter than your enemy. And I intend for both of us to survive.”

“I already told you that I trust you,” she said softly. “I meant it, Griff.”

The coolness was gone from her eyes. Now there was only warmth, and a light that burned steadily as she watched him. It made an answering flame leap inside him.

Deliberately, he turned away to focus on the road. There was no excuse for becoming distracted from his job. And Willa was definitely a distraction.

“According to Ryan, we should be there in about ten minutes,” he said.

“And then what?”

“Then we wait,” he said grimly. “Ryan is putting some private investigators on the job in College Station to see what they can turn up. We’re going to stay here until we have some answers. Until we know who was trying to kidnap you, I don’t want to take any chances.”

“All right.”

He glanced over at her. “All right? As easily as that? What if Ryan doesn’t learn anything? You don’t have forever before you have to start teaching your classes again. What if we don’t know what’s going on, and you have to go back to the university?”

“I’m not sure,” she said slowly. “Right now, the university and my job there seem very far away. I haven’t thought about it once since we left College Station.” She turned to him again, and gave him a blinding smile that made his legs weak. “I’m not going to worry about that until I have to.”

“I thought you were a regimented, plan-everything kind of woman,” he managed to say. “You teach at a university, for God’s sake. How much more by-the-book can you get than that? I figured an open-ended stay here in El Paso would be a problem for you.”

“I guess you were wrong, then,” she said lightly. “Maybe underneath this mousy exterior, I’m really a wild woman.”

“Mousy?” He gave her an incredulous look. “You’re about as far from mousy as you could get.”

His response was instantaneous, and he saw her blush. “Thank you, Griff,” she murmured. “But my physical attributes aren’t the issue. My job is. And I have a month before I have to worry about it. So let’s just forget about it for now.”

“That’s fine with me,” he muttered. How was he supposed to forget her physical attributes? he thought to himself. Especially when she’d spent the night sleeping on his lap.

He hardened again just thinking about it. He’d seen that her head was bent as she slept on his shoulder, and knew she’d awaken with a stiff neck. So he’d eased her down until she rested on his lap. That had been a mistake. It had been a night of pure torture for him, but he wouldn’t have traded it for anything. The fragrant cloud of her hair had drifted over his thigh, and whenever he’d shifted, her scent had swirled around him. As she slept, she’d unselfconsciously slid her hand under his leg, and the imprint of her fingers still burned on his skin. Even the heavy denim fabric of his jeans hadn’t been a barrier to the sensations. He’d been in a state of arousal for the whole trip, and it still hadn’t receded completely.

Which was probably why he was acting like an idiot.

“Here’s the road that leads to the cabin,” he said, as they turned onto a rutted dirt track. He was relieved and grateful for the distraction. “It doesn’t look like anyone has been this way in a while.”

“Great,” she said fervently. “I can’t wait to get out of this truck.”

Neither could he. The atmosphere was too confined, too intimate. Especially after last night.

But he was afraid that living in the same house with Willa was going to be even more so.

Betsy Keene sat on the shabby couch in the small living area of her trailer near Leather Bucket and shrank back against the cushions. She stared at the man who had been her lover ever since he showed up on her doorstep six months ago, wounded and needing help. Clint Lockhart raged through the room, throwing papers onto the floor and overturning her tiny kitchen table and chairs. His blue eyes were black with rage, and his arrogant mouth, the mouth she’d come to love, was twisted into a frightening grimace.

“We should have had her!” he shouted, slamming his fist onto the counter. The jars and boxes on top of the counter jumped, and so did Betsy. “One more minute, and we would have had her.”

“We can try again, Clint,” Betsy said, her voice placating.

“When?” He turned on her, his eyes blazing. “When will we get another chance? That meddling son of a bitch Ryan Fortune is going to make sure we can’t get close to Willa again. He’ll swoop her up and bring her to the Double Crown Ranch, and that will be it. We can’t take her from that ranch. Everyone there knows me. And since you started working at the ranch house they know you, too.”

“Maybe there’s something we can do,” she said nervously, pleating the fabric of her dress with shaking fingers. Clint was frightening her. He’d lost his temper before, but this time there was a glaze of madness in his eyes. She prayed he wouldn’t turn his rage against her.

“What can we do?” Clint’s voice dripped with scorn. “Should I call her on the phone and ask her to meet us somewhere by herself? That snooty, stuck-up college professor is too smart for that.” He kicked over a table and sent a lamp crashing into a wall. “She won’t be so stuck-up once I get my hands on her.”

Fear filled Betsy’s mouth with a sour taste as she edged away from Clint. My God, what was wrong with him? Willa Simms had never harmed him, or her, either. In fact, Willa had always been pleasant to her, and very kind.

“Why are you so angry with Willa?” she asked, her voice tentative.

“Because she has what I should have,” he shouted at her, his eyes full of rage. “She has free run of the Double Crown. Ryan Fortune gives her anything she wants. That should be my ranch. And it would be, too, if Ryan’s father hadn’t swindled my dad into selling our neighboring ranch to him. I should’ve inherited the ranch from my father. I should be the one in charge. Everyone should kowtow to me. I should be the one with all the money. And I will be. I’ll get the ranch in the end. We’ll see who’s smarter, me or Ryan Fortune. He thought he was so smart trying to frame me for Sophia’s murder, but I’ll show him.”

“I know you’ll win,” Betsy said. She had to soothe him somehow. “You’re smarter than Ryan Fortune. Anyone can see that.”

“That’s right,” he said, seeming to calm down at her words. “At least you believe in me, Betsy.”

“You know I do, Clint.” She licked her lips and watched him carefully. The madness seemed to be fading from his eyes. “You wouldn’t really hurt Willa, would you?”

A crafty look came into his eyes. “Now, why would I want to do that? That would be like killing the goose that laid the golden egg, wouldn’t it?”

“I knew you were a smart one, Clint. I knew it right away.”

Betsy told herself she should be relieved, but fear ate away at her gut. Clint was getting more impatient, more angry every day. And he’d raged at her during the entire trip back from College Station.

“That’s right, Betsy. I’m smart enough to figure this out.” His mouth twisted again, and once more madness shone out of his eyes. “And who was that man at her apartment who chased us, anyway? Do you know?”

“N-no, Clint, I don’t.” He’d looked familiar, but she’d been trying to get away and hadn’t taken a good look. “He must have been intending to visit someone in the apartment.”

Clint’s eyes darkened. “I’ll teach him to meddle.”

“He’s probably long gone,” Betsy said, watching Clint, the fear roiling inside her. Had Clint gone completely mad? “We won’t have to worry about him the next time.”

But her words only seemed to infuriate him. “Next time?” he screamed. “Next time? How can there be a next time? We should have had her tonight.”

“Maybe she’s at the ranch already.” Betsy clutched the fabric of her dress more tightly. She was terribly afraid of what Clint would do to Willa. But she was more afraid of what he would do to her. So she took a breath and said, “If she’s at the ranch, I’ll get her to come with me. She’d have no reason to be afraid of me. I’ll bring her to you.”

“What if she’s not at the ranch?” Clint asked. Now his eyes looked calculating.

“I’ll stick close to Ryan’s office,” she said, desperate to find some way of appeasing Clint. “She’s bound to get in touch with him. I’ll listen whenever he gets a phone call. I’ll get the information for you. Haven’t I always done what you wanted me to do?”

He smiled at her, but there was no warmth in his face, and Betsy shivered. “Yeah, you’ve always done what I wanted you to do, Betsy. And I won’t forget it.”

He grabbed his coat from the door and stepped outside. “I need to think for a while. You figure out how you’re going to get that information for me.”

Clint slammed the door, and the trailer shook for a moment. Betsy slumped against the couch, staring at the door, as tears slowly trickled down her face. How did everything go so wrong? she cried to herself. She’d had such glorious dreams of a wonderful life with Clint. Now they were as old and dusty as the dirt of the Double Crown Ranch. And as unattainable.

She had to put Griff out of her mind, Willa told herself as they bumped along the rutted dirt trail that was supposed to lead to the cabin. The disturbing feelings he roused in her were nothing more than her hormones reacting to an attractive man. Griff wouldn’t be interested in a woman like her, a woman who wasn’t exciting or glamorous or sophisticated.

She stared out the window, trying to find something else to think about. “The trees along this road to the house are beautiful,” she said in a low voice, desperate for an innocuous topic to discuss.

“They’re a problem.” Griff sounded worried.

She couldn’t stop herself from looking over at him. “What do you mean, ‘they’re a problem’?”

“Too much cover.” His face was hard. “Anyone could sneak up on the cabin along this road, and we wouldn’t be able to see them until they were at the door.”

“Who’s going to come to the cabin, Griff?” she asked. “No one but Ryan knows we’re here.”

He glanced over at her, and she thought his eyes softened a little. “Remember what you said about thinking three steps ahead? That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“But it’s so quiet up here. Surely we would hear anyone driving up the road.”

“I hope so.” He glanced out the window again. “Damn trees. I don’t know why you Americans are so nuts about trees.”

“Don’t you have trees in Australia?” she asked, trying to keep the laughter from her voice.

“We have plenty of trees,” he muttered. “We just don’t put them where they don’t need to be.” When he glanced over at her and saw her smiling, he smiled reluctantly. “We don’t have a lot of trees on the Crown Peak Ranch. It’s mostly pasture and red dirt. And don’t mind me. I’m just worrying out loud.”

“I think the trees along the road are beautiful.”

He scowled again. “Yeah, they’re magnificent.”

She turned to look out the window again, her smile fading. Griff took his job very seriously. And she was grateful that he did. She needed to keep that in mind.

“Is your family’s Crown Peak Ranch in Australia a lot different than the Double Crown Ranch?” she asked.

“Actually, it’s quite similar to the Double Crown,” he answered. “Which isn’t too surprising, I guess, considering that my father Teddy and Ryan are half brothers.”

“Ryan was so excited when he found Teddy.” Willa smiled, remembering her godfather’s delight. “And he was thrilled that you and Matilda and Reed and Brody could spend this time with him.”

“My father was happy about it, too,” Griff said. “He’d always wondered about his family.”

As they talked, the truck emerged from the last of the trees to a small clearing surrounded by more trees. The mountain rose sharply behind the cabin, but the trees and the rock behind them gave the small clearing a cozy, secluded feel.

The cabin itself was made of weathered logs that blended into the rustic setting. There was a porch that ran the length of the front of the cabin, and a pile of firewood was stacked along one side.

“Let’s leave the car here for now, and take a look around,” Griff said.

Willa stepped out of the car, and realized that there was a chill to the air. “I had forgotten we’d be in the mountains,” she said, pulling Griff’s jacket more tightly around herself. Then she looked over at him and realized that he was in his shirtsleeves. He didn’t seem to react. He stood measuring the cabin with his eyes, examining the area around it.

Willa reached into the truck and grabbed her wool coat. It was still a little damp from the night before, but she took off Griff’s jacket and slipped on her own. She missed the battered jacket immediately. It had smelled and felt like Griff.

“Here, Griff,” she said. “It’s too cold to stand there without your jacket.”

He glanced over at her, and she saw concern flash in his eyes. “Why did you put that coat on? It’s still wet.”

“It’s fine.” She thrust his jacket at him, ignoring the feeling of loss. “We’re just going into the house, aren’t we?”

He took his jacket absently and slipped it on, still studying the area. He was silent for so long that Willa moved closer to him.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

He looked over at her as if she’d startled him. “Wrong? No, it looks fine.”

“You’ve been staring at the cabin as if you expected it to turn on you.”

He gave her a smile and took her hand. “I was just running scenarios in my head. Let’s take a look at the back.”

It was only a casual gesture, she told herself as he led her around to the back of the cabin. There was no reason for her heart to race in her chest and for her lungs to feel like they were going to explode. Griff was merely trying to shepherd her along, and taking her hand was the quickest way to do it.

But her hand felt so right in his. She wanted to twine their fingers together, to press her palm against his and feel her heart stutter in response.

She’d better get a grip, she told herself harshly. She didn’t want to make a fool of herself, or embarrass him. So she forced herself to ignore the feel of his hand on hers, and concentrate on the cabin that would be their home for a while.

There was a small shed at the rear of the cabin, and Griff opened the door. Tools and ladders lined the walls, and there was a space large enough to hold their truck. Otherwise, the shed was empty. Griff shut the door, and they kept walking.

The trees that surrounded the cabin seemed to press in from the back. Griff dropped her hand as he moved into the thicket of woods, and she could almost read his mind. The trees were too close to the house. They could provide too much cover for someone intent on surprising them. Willa shoved her hands into her pockets and shivered. The feelings Griff aroused in her made it too easy to forget the real reason they were at this cabin.

“I don’t like this,” he said, and she saw the concern in his eyes. “These trees are far too close to the building. But there’s nothing we can do about it. I’ll rig up an alarm system for these windows at the rear of the cabin. That will help.”

“I guess no one thought of this cabin as a hideout from kidnappers,” Willa said, trying to keep the snap out of her voice. She was grateful they had a refuge like this cabin.

Griff gave her a quick smile. “The trees can’t be helped. But we can fix the problem. Let’s go inside.”

Willa expected to find a very basic, rustic living space. She was surprised at the comfortable, homey atmosphere inside the cabin. Rugged, oversize furniture was grouped around a magnificent stone fireplace that soared up two stories to an exposed-beam ceiling. There were carpets on the hardwood floors, and pictures and Native American rugs on the walls. The kitchen was small but functional. A table and chairs stood between the kitchen and the living area.

There was one bedroom off the living area. A combination of fear and excitement stirred as she looked inside at the one huge bed it held.

“It’s all right,” Griff said behind her. “Ryan told me there’s another bed in the loft.” He nodded to the loft area above the bedroom. “You take the bedroom, and I’ll take the loft.”

Willa was amazed at the disappointment that snaked through her at Griff’s words. As soon as she realized she’d been hoping this would be the only bed in the cabin, she was horrified with herself. Backing out of the room, she said breathlessly, “I’ll get the bags from your truck.”

“Let me help you.”

Griff led the way back out to the truck. It took several trips, but they finally got all the bags of food and supplies into the cabin. Griff drove the truck around the back to put it in the shed, and Willa started to put away the food.

She’d better settle down, she told herself. She and Griff were going to be in this cabin, alone, for God knew how long. If she didn’t want to make a complete fool of herself, she’d better remember that Griff was just doing this as a favor to Ryan Fortune. He’d made that clear enough.

Griff came back into the cabin a few minutes later, and carefully locked the door behind him. Then he went over and examined the window in the main room. Willa watched as his fingers traced the frame lightly, brushing over the wood and lingering over the locks. Before she could stop herself, she was imagining Griff’s hands on her, exploring her as thoroughly as he explored the window.

Making a disgusted noise under her breath, she turned her back and jerked open another cabinet. But putting the food away couldn’t stop her from being aware of Griff in the cabin. She knew instantly when he moved away from the main room and walked into the bedroom.

She refused to allow herself to turn and look at him. Instead, she called out, “What’s the verdict on the security?” She hoped he could hear nothing in her voice aside from friendly concern.

“It’ll do.” His voice was muffled, as if he were still bent over the window. “I have a few things I want to do, but then it should be all right.”

“Did you want something to eat first?”

Griff emerged from the bedroom. “I’ll make us a couple of sandwiches in a while. But first I want to take a look at that head of yours.”

Willa put her hand on the bump over her left temple. “I’d almost forgotten about this.”

“I hadn’t.” His voice was controlled, and she saw a flash of anger turn his eyes dark. “I want to make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine, Griff.” She wasn’t sure she wanted Griff to come any closer to her, even if only to check the cut on her head. Her heart was already beating frantically in her ears, and it was hard to draw a breath. “Why don’t you take care of the windows, while I make us sandwiches?”

“That will keep. Your injuries won’t.” He moved toward her.

“I’m fine, Griff. Really.” When she realized she was backing away from him, she stopped and straightened. “I’ll put some alcohol on the cut and that will take care of it.”

“I want to make sure there’s nothing else wrong with you. We don’t know what they did to you inside your building to get you into that rug.”

He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Willa shrugged. “All right. You might as well get it over with. But you’re not going to find anything wrong.”

Except that her palms were sweating and her heart was thundering in her chest!

Three

“It will only take me a minute,” he said. He glanced behind him. “Let’s sit down over on the couch.”

Willa slipped past Griff in the tiny kitchen and went over to the couch, trying to compose herself. In a few moments, Griff joined her. He was holding a brown bottle and several tubes and packages of bandages.

“You look like you’re ready to take care of a whole army,” she said.

“I wasn’t sure what I would need, so I just got everything I saw in the store.”

Willa turned her head so that Griff could see the cut. “Go ahead, then, and get it over with.”

Griff didn’t move, and finally Willa turned to face him. “What’s wrong?”

“Does your head hurt that much?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Of course not.”

“Then what’s wrong? You’re as stiff as a board.”

She felt her face heating, but she wasn’t about to tell him the truth. She was bracing herself for his touch. She couldn’t tell him that her heart was racing and her skin tingling because he was so close to her. So she shrugged. “I never did like having people poke at me when I was hurt. Go ahead.”

She turned her head away, but she felt him hesitate. Finally he touched her face. His hands were as gentle and light as the touch of a butterfly’s wings, and when his fingers trailed over the side of her head, lingering at the angle of her jaw, she shivered in response.

“Your cut is beginning to heal already,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m going to clean it, then leave it alone. I think it’ll be fine.”

“Good,” she managed to say. Swallowing hard, she clamped her hands between her thighs and looked out the window. She knew very well what Griff would see in her face if she looked at him. He would see desire.

She was afraid he would find it pathetic.

So she kept her head turned away as he wiped at the cut with a cold, stinging liquid. “It’s alcohol,” he said, and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if it hurts, but they dropped you in that muddy water. I want to make sure that cut is disinfected.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she managed to say. Just do this quickly, she pleaded silently.

After a few moments he moved away from her. Willa started to get up, but Griff laid a hand on her arm.

“Just a minute,” he said. “I’m not finished.”

“You took care of the cut,” she said, telling herself to pull away from him. “What else is there?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t let go of her arm, and she didn’t try to move away. “But I want to ask you a few questions.”

Slowly she sat back down on the couch. “I already told you, I don’t remember what happened.”

He smiled. Almost as if he couldn’t help himself, he reached out and pushed her hair away from the cut on her head. “I know. And I’m not going to push. But I want to make sure they didn’t hurt you anyplace else.”

Heat trailed down her face, following his fingers, and she swallowed again. “All right.”

His hand dropped away from her face, and held hers. “You said you had gotten your mail, and you remember seeing the painters. They said something to you. Did you answer them?”

She closed her eyes and tried to remember, but there was a void. “I don’t remember,” she said, opening her eyes. “But I probably would have, if they spoke to me.”

“You’re too polite to ignore someone talking to you.” He took her other hand and fixed his gaze on her face. “So they said something to you, you answered them, and they probably moved closer while you talked. Do you remember if they hit you?”

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t remember anything after that.”

Griff frowned. “If they didn’t hit you, they would have to have used something like chloroform to knock you out. Otherwise, they couldn’t have gotten you rolled up in that rug. I didn’t smell anything when I found you. Does your throat hurt?”

“Not at all.”

“Then let’s take a look at your head.”

He moved in front of her, then crouched down between her legs so their faces were only inches apart. “I’m going to look for another lump on your head. Tell me if I hurt you.” His voice was low and throaty, and a stab of desire jolted through her. Her throat swelled, and all she could do was nod her head.

Griff’s brown eyes held hers for a moment, and she thought she saw an answering flare of desire in their depths. Then he abruptly turned his head away. His hands slid into her hair, and she closed her eyes to the wave of feeling that swept over her.

His fingers moved gently over her scalp, probing lightly. Sensations crashed through her, making her breath catch in her chest. Blood roared in her ears, and she longed to lean into him, longed to feel the hard length of his body pressed against hers.

“Do you feel anything?” His voice sounded a little breathless.

Yes, she wanted to tell him. You’re making me feel things I’ve never felt before. But instead she said, “No, I can’t feel a thing.”

“How about over here?” His hands drifted below her right ear, and she closed her eyes and let herself float on the sensations.

Suddenly her eyes flew open. “Ouch. That hurts.” She reached up and found a tiny bump on her head.

Griff rose from between her legs and sat down on the couch next to her. Gently, he pushed the hair away from the spot. “It’s a very small bump, and the skin isn’t broken. They must have hit you just hard enough to make you fall down, then rolled you up in the rug. You were wriggling when they walked out the door of the apartment with you. That’s when I saw one of the kidnappers hit you again.”

His fingers brushed through her hair again, and it almost felt as if he were caressing her. He leaned closer, and she thought she felt his lips brush over the spot on her head. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I didn’t even know it was there until you touched it.” Her breathing was ragged.

Griff drew away, but he didn’t move off the couch. He took her hands and slowly turned her to face him. “Do you hurt anywhere else?”

She ached all over, but that had nothing to do with her attackers. “No, I’m fine.”

“Then I’d say you’re going to survive.”

His melodic voice dropped almost to a whisper, and Willa couldn’t tear her gaze away from his face. His eyes blazed with a heat she’d never seen in them before. He reached out and framed her face with his hands, then leaned toward her.

“Tell me to stop, Blue.” His voice was a low, smoky growl that thrummed deep inside her. “Tell me to get lost.”

Slowly she shook her head. “I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered.

His eyes darkened and his hands slid down her neck, his thumbs tracing a line on her throat in a slow caress that made her tighten with need. Then he grasped her shoulders with shaking hands. The air between them trembled.

His kiss wasn’t tender or tentative. He crushed her mouth beneath his, drinking her in like a man who’d been dying of thirst. He claimed her mouth with an untamed desperation that stirred an answering wildness in her.

Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him closer. With a groan deep in his throat, Griff slid his hands around her face, holding her while his mouth roamed over her cheeks, her eyes, her neck.

Finally he returned to her mouth, where his lips gentled. He nibbled, he tasted, he nipped, until dark waves of heat swept over her, leaving her needy. She opened her mouth to moan his name, and he swept inside to taste her more intimately.

His hands slid down her back, caressing her spine, smoothing over every muscle along the way. Desire coiled inside her, until she throbbed in rhythm with every touch of his hands, every movement of his lips.

She tried to move closer to him. She needed to feel the hard planes of his body against hers, needed to feel his weight and heat pressing into her. His hands tightened on her for a moment, then he pressed her down onto the couch.

His leg curled around hers, and he leaned over her. His eyes were nearly black with passion, and the planes of his face were hard. “For God’s sake, Willa. Tell me to stop.”

She looked up at him, knowing her eyes were dazed, knowing that he could see the desire and passion in her face. “I don’t want you to stop, Griff. Kiss me again.”

He closed his eyes as a shudder passed through him, then he bent and took her mouth again. He smoothed her hair away from her face, and his hand trailed down her neck. He stroked the skin of her throat at the opening of her blouse, then pressed his mouth to the spot.

“You’re so soft,” he whispered. “So smooth. Are you this soft everywhere?”

He hesitated for a moment, then he slowly pulled her blouse out of the waistband of her slacks. He kissed her again as he slid his hand onto her abdomen.

Her skin jumped and heated at his touch, and she shifted against him. His leg slid between hers, and she pressed herself closer to him. She clung to him, lost in the sensations crashing over her. She still couldn’t believe that Griff apparently wanted her as much as she wanted him.

“Griff,” she said fiercely, turning so that her body fitted more closely against his.

He wove his hands into her hair, pulling her closer. His mouth took hers in a storm of heat and desire, and she answered him back, kiss for kiss, touch for touch.

But when he shifted his hand he pressed against her cut, and she couldn’t stop herself from crying out. He stilled immediately, then began easing himself away from her.

“I’m sorry, Willa,” he said.

“Don’t be.” Her voice was fierce. “You didn’t mean to touch my bruise.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry I touched you in the first place, sorry it got out of hand.”

Slowly she drew away from him, feeling a ball of hurt swelling in her throat. “You’ll notice I wasn’t objecting too much.”

“You should have been. My God, Willa, I gave Ryan my word that I would take care of you. I promised him that I would protect you. I’m sure that what we were just doing wasn’t what he had in mind.”

She couldn’t believe how much his words stung. “Does Ryan decide who you get involved with?” She tried to make her voice cool to hide her pain. “He doesn’t run my life. What does he have to do with what goes on between us?”

“I don’t answer to any man, including Ryan Fortune.” He scowled at her and stood. “But I honor my word. And when I said I would protect you, I meant just that.”

“I don’t notice any kidnappers pounding at the door. So what are you worried about?”

Griff sighed and ran his hand through his short brown hair. “If I’m thinking about you, about how much I want to kiss you, I’m not thinking about how to protect you. My mind can’t be in two places at once. And when I was kissing you, that’s definitely all I was thinking about.”

She angled her chin at him, unwilling to concede the point. “You said no one followed us. No one knows where we are. So what are you worried about?”

“I’m worried about what I can’t predict. I’m worried about where the next threat is coming from. I had no idea that you were going to be kidnapped when I showed up at your apartment. It just happened. And I have no way of knowing what’s going to happen next.”

She looked out the window at the trees surrounding the cabin and the mountain rising behind it, then looked back at Griff. His face was closed off and remote. “What kind of man are you, Griff, that you worry about things like that?” she asked softly.

“I’m the kind of man you don’t need in your life,” he said harshly. “I’m the kind of man your mother should have warned you about.”

“My mother left us when I was a baby,” she said coolly. “So her opinion wouldn’t count. And my father taught me to pay attention to my instincts. But apparently my instincts were wrong.”

“Damn right your instincts were wrong.” He scowled again. “I’m going out to get some firewood. It’s going to get cold in here.”

Griff slammed out the door, and Willa sank back onto the couch. In spite of Griff’s words, he couldn’t deny what she’d seen in his face. Or felt in his touch. He had wanted her, as much as she’d wanted him.

She closed her eyes to savor the knowledge, to wrap herself in the warmth of Griff’s desire for a moment longer. These last few months, when she’d been dreaming of Griff, imagining his kiss, he’d been thinking about her, too. He hadn’t merely been overcome by unexpected passion. She might not be very worldly, but she could tell when a man wanted her.

And Griff had wanted her.

Logs thumped against the side of the house, jerking her back to reality. The sound reminded her that they were in this cabin because someone wanted to kidnap her, or worse. Someone hated her enough to want to harm her.

Griff was right, she told herself. She should be worrying about what had brought them here, not about Griff and how he felt about her. Or how she felt about him.

Griff wouldn’t fit into her life. He would never want to settle down in a university town like College Station. She couldn’t imagine him as the husband of a college professor, going to faculty dinners and cocktail parties. She couldn’t imagine him as a husband, period. Griff was too wild, too untamed to fit into an easy, comfortable life-style like the one she was building.

A small voice in the back of her brain pointed out that being a college professor, having a stable and secure life, was her father’s dream for her. It hadn’t always been her dream. But she banished the voice from her mind. Being a college professor was the life she’d chosen, and she was damn good at it. And she would go on being good at it, as soon as they figured out who wanted to kidnap her.

In the meantime, she’d stay as far away from Griff as possible. It wasn’t going to be easy to avoid him in this tiny cabin, but she’d do her best. There would be no repeats of the kiss they had shared.

Griff was right. They both had other things to worry about.

She stifled her heart’s protest and stood. If Griff was getting firewood, she could make lunch.

Griff raised the ax again and brought it crashing down on the log. It split into several satisfying pieces, and he bent down to stack them in the growing pile next to him.

The wood piled next to the house had needed to be split before it could be used, and Griff was happy to do the job. He figured if he raised the ax and brought it down enough times, if he pushed his body to the breaking point, he’d get rid of the desire that still pulsed inside him.

He still couldn’t believe he’d kissed Willa—and that he would have done a hell of a lot more than kiss her if he hadn’t accidentally touched the bruise on the side of her head.

Thank God she’d flinched. It had brought him to his senses, and not a moment too soon. He’d been so consumed with his need for her that in another few minutes he’d have had her naked underneath him on the couch.

He cringed when he thought about it. He was here to protect Willa, to make sure that nothing happened to her. And the first time they were alone together, he had forgotten everything he’d been trained to remember.

Some protector he was.

He swung the ax again and split apart another log. At the rate he was going, he thought sourly, he’d have the whole forest split and stacked before his desire for Willa disappeared.

Why couldn’t Willa have been a woman from his world, one who knew the rules and how the game was played? Why couldn’t she have been the kind of woman who could indulge in a casual affair and then walk away with no regrets?

Willa wasn’t that kind of woman. She was a lady—a college professor, for God’s sake. He was the last man she should get involved with. He was too cynical, too wild, too much a loner for a woman like Willa. She needed someone who could give her what she deserved: a home, the picket fence around it, and everything that went inside.

All the things that he couldn’t give her.

Why would she want to get involved with someone like him, someone who dealt in death and destruction? If she knew the real Griffin Fortune, she would run away as fast as she could.

So, they would have to get through this enforced isolation together and hope that Ryan uncovered some information—and quickly. He’d call Ryan tonight, he thought, and let him know that they’d arrived.

And make sure Ryan worked fast.

The fire in the huge fireplace crackled in front of them, radiating heat throughout the room. Griff picked up the poker and stirred the fire again. It didn’t need stirring, but it was better than the alternative, which was watching Willa.

“Tomorrow I’ll figure out how to turn on the heat in the cabin,” he said.

Willa looked up from the book she was reading. “Don’t worry about it. The fireplace keeps the cabin plenty warm. And with any luck, we won’t be here too much longer.”

Her voice was cool and polite, and her eyes were guarded.

When he’d finally gone back into the cabin after chopping the wood, he had found that she’d made lunch. She’d smiled at him and they’d talked, but her eyes had been wary and her words had been careful.

It was just as well. They’d both be happier in the long run if they ignored the heat that flared between them. Neither of them needed the tension that hummed in the room. And they didn’t need a repeat of that kiss they’d shared.

But her taste, the way she felt, was burned into his mind. It would be a long, long time before he forgot about Willa.

“I’m going to call Ryan tonight, anyway,” he said, looking at the fire again. It was too painful to look at Willa and know she was out of his league. “I’ll ask him about the heat. It was easy enough to turn on the water. I’m sure the heat will be simple, too.”

“Fine,” she said, her tone of voice implying that she didn’t care. “But don’t worry about it because of me.”

“You’re tough, right? You can survive in near-freezing temperatures?”

She looked up at the savage tone of his voice. “It’s not anywhere close to freezing. The temperature in the cabin has been very pleasant.” Her voice was logical and even.

“It’s the middle of December, Willa. We’re in the mountains. It gets cold. It might even snow.” He was taking out his frustration on her, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“If it does, we’ll turn on the heat.” She gave him a calm smile, and added, “Do you need some help splitting the wood? I can do that, too.”

“I do not need help splitting the wood.” He forced himself to speak slowly and distinctly. What he wanted to do was yell at Willa, tell her that there was no way he was risking letting her use an ax.

He jumped up in disgust and stormed to the window. What he really wanted to do was sweep Willa into his arms and savor another taste of her. Only this time it would be more intense, because he knew how quickly she responded. And he knew that she wanted him, too.

The fact that Willa seemed oblivious to the tension and the desire that threatened to spill out was infuriating. But he knew better than to let it provoke him. So he strode over to the counter and picked up the phone. “I’m going to call Ryan and let him know we arrived. He might have some information for us.”

Her eyes became animated for the first time since he’d come back into the cabin. “Maybe the kidnappers have already been caught.”

“Maybe.” He doubted it. They had too little information to work with. “You’ll be glad to get back to College Station, won’t you?”

Her eyes became cool again. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to get back to your own life. You can’t enjoy baby-sitting me.”

She had no idea how much he’d enjoyed taking care of her that afternoon. He scowled at her. “Both of us have things to do, I guess. Let me see if Ryan is around.”

He dialed the private number for Ryan’s office, and his uncle picked up on the first ring. “Fortune here.”

“Ryan, this is Griff. I wanted to let you know that we arrived safely.”

“Good.” He heard the older man take a deep breath. “Lily and I have both been worried sick all day. I’m glad you called.”

“We picked up enough supplies to last awhile, and no one followed us here. So we should be safe. Have you heard anything from College Station?”

“Not a thing.” Griff could practically hear Ryan frown. “I have a team of the best investigators in College Station working on the case, and none of them have been able to come up with even a hint of a lead. There’s no trace of the blue van. Apparently it vanished into thin air. And the management of Willa’s apartment building says they didn’t hire any painters or any carpet layers. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in that building when she arrived home.”

“So they were waiting specifically for her.” Griff felt a coldness squeeze his gut.

“That would be my guess. The only question is why.”

“I’m figuring it has something to do with you. Maybe they thought they could get ransom money out of you. Maybe it’s someone with a grudge. Someone like Cling Lockhart.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. “I’ve thought about that,” Ryan said finally, reluctantly. “And we both know what he’s capable of. Until we catch the culprits, take care of Willa. I think you’ll be safe where you are. Don’t take any chances with her. Or yourself.”

“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s why I’m not worrying.”

Griff asked a few more questions about the cabin, and received instructions for turning on the heat and several other maintenance problems. He finally asked if he wanted to talk to Willa.

“Just give her my love,” Ryan said.

Reassured that Ryan was taking the threat seriously, Griff said goodbye, telling Ryan he’d talk to him again soon.

When he walked back into the main room, Willa watched him with wary eyes. “What did Ryan have to say?” she asked.

“They haven’t found anything. Not a trace of the van, not a trace of the housepainters. According to the management of your building, there were no painters or carpet layers scheduled to work that day.”

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