Never Before Had Lainie Taken So Much As A Moment To Think About Getting Married And Having A Child.

Rocking a baby, watching it grow were things she’d refused to consider.

She’d been so wrapped up in her career, so busy getting ahead that she hadn’t given a family of her own a second thought.

Lainie blinked back wetness. She slid a glance over at Sloan’s profile, wondering what he thought about having kids.

She chastised herself for being an idiot. Know a guy for three days, share one spectacular dance and an equally spectacular kiss and you start thinking of diapers and baby blankets? That was just the sort of thing she counseled against in her column. She’d told literally hundreds of women not to do anything so foolish.

Good thing she and Sloan had only shared kisses.

Oh, but she wanted to share so much more….

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to another passionate month at Silhouette Desire. A Scandal Between the Sheets is breaking out as Brenda Jackson pens the next tale in the scintillating DYNASTIES: THE DANFORTHS series. We all love the melodrama and mayhem that surrounds this Southern family—how about you?

The superb Beverly Barton stops by Silhouette Desire with an extra wonderful title in her bestselling series THE PROTECTORS. Keeping Baby Secret will keep you on the edge of your seat—and curl your toes all at the same time. What would you do if you had to change your name and your entire history? Sheri WhiteFeather tackles that compelling question when her heroine is forced to enter the witness protection program in A Kept Woman. Seems she was a kept woman of another sort, as well…so be sure to pick up this fabulous read if you want the juicy details.

Kristi Gold has written the final, fabulous installment of THE TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB: THE STOLEN BABY series with Fit for a Sheikh. (But don’t worry, we promise those sexy cattlemen with be back.) And rounding out the month are two wonderful stories filled with an extra dose of passion: Linda Conrad’s dramatic Slow Dancing With A Texan and Emilie Rose’s suppercharged A Passionate Proposal.

Enjoy all we have to offer this month—and every month—at Silhouette Desire.

Melissa Jeglinski

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Slow Dancing With a Texan
Linda Conrad

LINDA CONRAD

Born in Brazil to a commercial pilot and his wife, Linda Conrad was raised in south Florida and has been a dreamer and storyteller for as long as she can remember. After her mother’s death a few years ago, she moved from her then-home in Texas to Southern California and gave up her previous life as a stockbroker to rededicate herself to her first love—writing.

Linda and her husband, along with a Siamese mix cat named Sam, recently moved back to south Florida. She’s been writing contemporary romances for about five years and loves sharing them with readers. She enjoys growing roses, reading cozy mysteries and sexy romances, and driving her little convertible in the sunshine. But most important, Linda loves learning about—and living with—passion.

It makes Linda’s day to hear from readers. Visit with her at www.LindaConrad.com.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

One

Danged, crazy-fool redhead.

With one swift curse under his breath, Texas Ranger Sloan Abbott checked his watch and headed across the narrow downtown street toward the lobby where the foolhardy woman stood in full view. He wasn’t supposed to meet Lainie Gardner in her office on the twelfth floor of the Houston News building for another half hour.

He’d had serious reservations about taking this assignment. Being a bodyguard wasn’t his normal area of expertise. But he knew enough to be sure that a stalking victim was supposed to follow instructions.

Her life might depend on it.

Sloan had spent the day inspecting every inch of the building and the surrounding area. He knew the elevator systems and the location of each closet and air duct. No one could’ve done a better job of securing the premises than he had.

He’d also spent a good deal of time studying a dossier on Ms. Gardner that the captain had given him. The surprise was that he’d been fascinated by the interesting bits and pieces the file had supplied of her life.

Sloan had already come to the conclusion it would definitely be worthwhile to postpone the trip that had been the original reason he’d taken a leave of absence from the Texas Rangers. Protecting a beautiful advice columnist seemed like a much better idea at the moment than searching out potentially painful truths about his background.

So what does the gorgeous woman with such a famous face do? She casually strolls out of the elevator into the open lobby in full daylight.

He’d had no trouble recognizing her from across the street. Of course, he’d been studying her pictures. But he also knew that for years her face had been splattered in newspapers as an advertisement for her syndicated advice columns. With her flash of bright-copper hair, she’d be hard for anyone to miss.

As irritated as he was with her casual behavior, he couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face when he walked closer to the reality of Lainie Gardner—despite how foolish she was being at the moment.

The pictures hadn’t done her justice. Her body was compact, sturdy but curved in all the right places. And even dressed as she was, in loose-fitting pants and a sweater, he could tell that most of her five-foot, seven-inch body was made up of long, sexy legs.

Have mercy. He’d always been a leg man.

His mood changed dramatically when he saw Lainie stop in full view of the street and begin to laugh at something the other woman said. She’d been told to wait in her office until he arrived to give her instructions and escort her home. She was in danger and had been threatened. So what the hell was she doing?

He heard the muffled crack at the same instant the glass in front of him fractured into a million crystal slivers and flew in every direction. Someone screamed. Someone else shouted. But Sloan didn’t waste time wondering where the shot had come from.

After sprinting through the shattered window, he pushed past hysterical bystanders to the spot where the two women lay. Both of them were facedown on the marble floor…and there was blood. Lots of blood.

Within two seconds he’d determined that both women were still alive and that Lainie hadn’t lost consciousness. She didn’t fight him, as he pulled her up and quickly decided to remove her from the line of fire. If she was hurt badly, he’d find out soon enough. But for now, he wasn’t taking any chances on her being shot again while he stopped to check her wounds.

Another sudden hail of bullets had bystanders dodging out of the way to the sidewalk. “Call 9-1-1!” he shouted to anyone within earshot.

But Sloan was sure that, when he got Lainie out of sight, the shooting would stop. She had to be the target.

It was a danged good thing he’d checked this building out earlier. Sloan dashed into an alcove and found the side exit to an employee parking lot.

He stopped at the door and gently lowered her to the floor. Kneeling beside her, he checked her pulse and looked for any obvious or bleeding wounds. Her eyes fluttered open and he saw the shock in her eyes, but he didn’t see pain.

Relieved, Sloan carefully opened the heavy metal door and scrutinized the lot. It seemed quiet enough, but he knew that in the brilliant sunlight of the late afternoon their chances of making it to his pickup without being seen were pretty slim. He lifted her again and laid her across his shoulder in preparation to make a run for it.

She moaned and squirmed. “My…my sister. Please help her.”

“Stay still! Don’t move,” he ground out in a whisper. “Someone will be coming to help the others. You’re still in danger.”

A second later he slid them both past the protection of the door and dashed toward the alley where he’d parked. He managed to make it across the asphalt lot without incident by darting between the parked cars.

“Wait a minute!” she yelled as she grabbed the back of his shirt with both hands. “Stop. I can’t…”

He ignored her words because he didn’t want to waste his running breath, but he was grateful that her voice sounded so strong. Maybe she hadn’t been hit at all. He needed a peaceful moment to stop and really check her over.

Until then he had mere seconds to decide whether stealth or speed was their best chance at survival. Quickly making the decision to get the hell out of Dodge as fast as possible, Sloan punched the button on his keyless entry remote and heard the familiar but noisy beeps coming from his pickup in the alleyway twenty feet beyond.

He’d never before realized how loud and echoing the sound of the alarm-disengage truly was. Too late now.

Sloan all but threw her into the front seat and slammed the door. He made it clear around to the driver’s side and had the key in the ignition before hearing the ping of bullets as they hit the asphalt behind them.

“Stay down,” he snapped at her.

“I have to go back.” She popped her head up as he gunned the engine. “My sister…all the others…they need help. I have to help them.”

“The police will take care of it. But you’ve got to keep low.” He pushed at her shoulder while the truck screamed out of the alley.

Lainie banged her head on the glove box as she slid off the seat like a rag doll and landed on the dirty floor mat below. She let loose a string of very unladylike remarks and struggled to hang on.

The engine revved and the tires squealed as the truck jerked madly around a corner. What in heaven’s name was happening to her?

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and chanced a glimpse at the crazy cowpoke who’d manhandled her into this predicament. At once Lainie took in the shiny, leather cowboy boots and the spotless white Western hat.

Almost chalking him up to being an out-of-control urban cowboy, she briefly wondered if this was a kidnapping. Before that thought registered, he dragged at the wheel and sent the pickup truck into a spin.

It couldn’t have been more than two seconds later when he grimaced and righted the wheel again. But in that instant, she’d managed a glimpse under his denim jacket of a freshly starched white Western-cut shirt, a dark blue tie and the silver badge pinned neatly over his breast pocket.

Just then she remembered. Her mother had said to expect Captain Chet Johnson’s handpicked man this afternoon. What was the man’s name? Oh, yes. Sergeant Sloan Abbott of the Texas Rangers.

“We’ve got a black van on our tail.” His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror.

“Someone is following us?” she rasped. “But why?”

He shot her a quick, dark look that could’ve easily pinned her to the dashboard. “If it’s somehow managed to escape your notice, people have been shooting at you for the last ten minutes.”

Lainie thought about the cracking sound she’d heard when the whole world exploded around her. She’d been standing in the lobby, chuckling over some joke her sister had told when they’d heard the noise. Both she and Suzy had hit the floor in the same instant. So it must’ve been gunfire that broke the glass window next to them.

Suzy. My goodness, what had happened to her?

“Please,” she yelled over the roar of the engine and the screech of tires. “The others…we have to make sure they’re okay. Turn around.”

“The HPD are there by now,” he muttered without looking in her direction. “And probably the paramedics. I heard the sirens. They can handle them a lot better than we can.” He dragged at the wheel again and the truck slid around a corner.

Whoa! Her questions would have to wait, as the ride got rougher and she had to fight to maintain her balance. Lainie moved her arm to get a better hold on the seat as the truck rocketed into a left turn. She gasped when she caught a glimpse of her own bloodstained sleeve.

The lawman’s head jerked around at the sound. “Where are you injured?” He’d obviously spotted the blood, too.

“I…I don’t know. I…don’t think I am.” She wasn’t sure. Trying to concentrate on both her body and her balance, she’d discovered that her arms and legs were definitely cramped by being shoved under the dashboard. But the rest of her mostly just felt numb.

“The van’s side windows are blacked out but I think I can see at least three of them through the front,” he yelled, not waiting for the rest of her answer. “I’m going to lose them. Another block and we’ll hit the freeway on-ramp. Can you stay put until then, Lainie?”

She didn’t think she had much choice, so she nodded her head. He’d called her Lainie. It gave her a solid, calming feeling to hear him say her name. She realized that anyone might know who she was from reading her daily column. But still, this man’s very presence said he was a lawman—her very own Texas Ranger bodyguard.

“You’re Sloan Abbott, aren’t you?”

He nodded his answer but didn’t take the time to speak. The truck tires squealed in protest as he made one more fast right turn. She was sincerely relieved she hadn’t been able to see that maneuver.

The truck accelerated as she felt it travel up a hill. They’d apparently hit a freeway on-ramp, but she couldn’t be sure which one. The newspaper’s office was located within a few minutes of a half-dozen different interstates near downtown Houston. But since she couldn’t see out the windows, she had no idea of where they were.

Sloan suddenly reached his long arm over and grabbed her by the front of her sweater, pulling her up and onto the seat. “Buckle up, Ms. Gardner.”

Lainie yelped in protest at being so roughly buffeted, but she turned around and did exactly what she’d been told. After buckling her seat belt, she hung on to the door handle with one hand while bracing herself against the seat with the other. The scenery whizzed by in a blur.

She wasn’t sure she could catch her breath, and silently begged him to stop this madness and pull over. When he did, she owed him a piece of her mind. His driving was scarier than whoever was chasing them.

He whirled his truck past a few speeding cars as if they were standing still, whipping in and out of all three lanes. Lainie checked him out with a speculative glance.

His jaw was set, his dark eyes concentrated on the road. But even in profile, she could see he was easy to look at. If it had been any other time, she’d be interested in getting to know a man who looked as good as this one. With a hard but handsome face, he looked strong and slightly dangerous. Just the way a lawman should. The thought gave her a little thrill, but this wasn’t the time for that, either.

She watched him check the rearview mirror again, and automatically shot a glance behind her through the back window. Sure enough, a plain black van was keeping up with them, just a few cars back.

Yikes! Was this whole thing really connected to the nasty letters she’d been receiving? Lainie had thought they were just a joke—one in very bad taste to be sure, but not terribly scary.

The Houston Police Department hadn’t thought this stalker business was very serious, either. Because, although they’d taken statements from Lainie, her staff and family, the police told her there wasn’t too much they could do unless the writer made an overt move to harm someone. That practical stance had seemed reasonable at the time.

But all this shooting and chasing was certainly overt enough for her now. Silently she thanked heaven for her mother’s old friend, Chet Johnson. At least he’d taken the threat seriously enough to insist on finding a man to be her bodyguard in his off-duty hours.

The idea of a bodyguard had initially seemed silly. She didn’t have time or the patience for such nonsense. In fact, she’d been surprised that her mother made such a big deal over something she’d considered so unimportant.

Maybe Lainie would consider apologizing to her mom now. But it still seemed a little overboard.

“Pros,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Hang on. We’re about to shake them loose.”

He put his foot on the gas and sped out of the left lane, making the next exit ramp on two wheels and with no room to spare. Without bothering to stop for the light at the bottom of the ramp, he made two quick left turns and headed up the on-ramp going in the opposite direction.

Positive they must’ve lost the van with that move, Lainie caught her breath. Looking into the setting sun, she realized for the first time that they’d been heading east toward Louisiana. And now they were headed…where? Back to the city?

“Where are we going?” she croaked past a dry mouth.

Ignoring her question, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a mobile phone. He punched in one number, then threw her a narrowed look as he spoke.

She overheard him making some reference to her and the Houston police, and guessed that he was speaking to his boss, Captain Johnson. Lainie was desperate to speak to Chet, too.

“Right. Code twenty-seven. Got it,” he said into the phone. Then he flipped it shut and stashed it.

“Wait! I wanted to talk to him.” She swiveled in her seat and glared at the side of Sloan’s head.

“Sorry.” He didn’t turn but continued to pay attention to the road ahead. “The captain said the Houston police want to talk to us, but they’re going to have to wait until tomorrow. It’s too risky for you to show up at one of the substations right now. Too obvious.”

“But you didn’t ask about my sister. I have to know what happened to her…to everyone.” Lainie was unaccustomed to being out of control.

“The most important thing now is to get you out of sight and keep you alive. The shooting stopped back there when you were removed from the scene.”

She took a calming breath and steadied her voice. “So where are we going?”

“We’re going to ground,” he told her. “Find a nice quiet place. Somewhere no one would think to look for you.”

“Home?” That sounded like a great plan to her. No one would think to look for her at the one place where she should be.

His mouth cracked into a near smile. “Not likely, Ms. Gardner. I think you’ve been visible enough for one day.” He didn’t look at her but swung the wheel in another fast exit. “We’re going to find a sleazy little motel so we can regroup and get to know each other better.”

Sloan chuckled when he’d spotted the look of absolute terror on Lainie’s face as he mentioned the sleazy motel. Her wide green eyes were filled with shock. Either she was afraid of stepping down a rung on her social ladder by checking into a fleabag joint, or she was terrified at the thought of getting to know him any better.

But for him, as he’d said the words, a picture had formed in his mind of her looking up at him from a motel bed, glistening with sweat, panting and breathless from having been completely loved—by him. Oh, and he would do a very thorough job of loving her, too. That was a pure fact. But now was not the time for those thoughts.

He forced himself to push aside the lustful images and concentrated instead on trolling the surface streets, backtracking and sidetracking to make sure the tail was gone. Trying not to think about how close she’d come to being killed, Sloan instead considered why a stalker would’ve hired professional killers.

That mode of operation certainly didn’t fit the profile of an ordinary nutcase. Most stalkers who took the time to send a warning letter generally wanted to see the face of their intended victims when they finally made a move.

Nothing about this case added up.

He found what he’d been searching for in a rundown dump located a few blocks off Westheimer in an area that had seen better days. The End of the Trail Motel had a parking lot in back where he could pull in under overhanging trees and hopefully not be spotted.

Cutting the engine, he turned to Lainie and nearly lost his breath. The woman’s sleeves were covered in blood and her hair glittered with tiny shards of glass. He wondered if he should be taking her to the nearest hospital, not to some dirty joint with peeling stucco walls and half-graveled driveways.

“You never answered me before, Lainie.” His voice cracked as he tried to sound calm. “Where are you hurt? Did any of the bullets hit you?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t get a chance to answer you, or even get two words in for that matter. And I’ll be surprised if I’m not totally black and blue from that wild ride. But no…I don’t think I was shot. I just can’t imagine where all this blood came from.”

“Sit quietly until I get us checked in, then. We need to make sure you’re not cut and still bleeding. Try not to move too much.” His heart was beating double time at the thought of leaving her alone, even for a few minutes. But he had no choice.

“Check in here? We’re going to stay at this place?”

“Just long enough to figure out what to do,” he told her as he stepped from the truck. “Now, be still and wait for me. Any more sudden movements and some of that glass in your hair might get in your eyes.” He pushed the truck’s automatic-door-lock buttons and stalked toward the motel’s office.

It took her a long moment to drag in another breath. Glass in her eyes? All of a sudden she realized she was scared. Down-deep, panic-inducing scared.

She was afraid to cry, didn’t even want to tremble for fear of the glass. But it wasn’t the thought of being cut that had her so terrified. No. It was the idea that someone out there truly wanted to kill her.

Worse yet, she simply couldn’t let herself get out of control. Oh, how she wished she had her sister here to talk to. Suzy always had an amazing way of calming her down and seeing the right answers through the haze of conflicting information. But Suzy might be fighting for her life right now. That inconceivable thought was the real reason Lainie was feeling so at a loss.

And now she would have to stay in a broken-down motel with a lawman who seemed like the strong, silent he-man type—and was gorgeous to boot.

Lordy, she was too scared to think straight. What difference did it make what Sloan looked like?

She had to start thinking clearly. She was bright enough and tough enough to outsmart any old stalker. All she had to do was concentrate on the problem and stop being sidetracked.

The truck’s door locks clicked again and Sloan wrenched open the passenger side door. “Your castle awaits, ma’am.”

He wouldn’t let her walk the fifty feet to a room he’d already opened that faced the back lot. Swiftly and quietly he carried her toward the two-story cement building, the one painted a pea-green color.

All the while she worried about him putting his hands on her body. And wondered how in the world she was supposed to concentrate on anything else.

Gently setting her on her feet just inside the door, he shut and locked it behind them. Then he ordered her to close her eyes.

“Why?” Although the cheap motel bedspread and the spot-stained gold carpeting left a lot to be desired, she couldn’t imagine what he wanted to keep her from seeing.

“Just close your eyes and be quiet a minute,” he replied. “Before we do anything else, I’ve got to remove a few tiny bits of glass that have fallen onto your eyelashes.”

“Oh.” Closing her lids carefully, she decided to quit fighting and let him do what he needed to do.

Sloan opened the first-aid kit he’d taken from the back of his pickup. He ripped apart the packaging on the cotton sheeting and used it to gently pick a few slivers that had shattered onto her face and neck. As he did, he couldn’t help but notice her soft, milky complexion.

Working close, he was fascinated by a faint smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. In his mind those slight imperfections only made her more interesting.

Trying to concentrate on the glass, he gently swiped the cotton across her thick eyelashes. Without warning, the urge to kiss the tender skin on her closed lids made him nervous and hesitant to touch her again.

He wanted to watch while she opened her eyes, focusing on his face. Sure that he would find passion in that gaze, he could already taste his growing need.

Sloan barely remembered the last time a woman affected him this way. It had been months since he’d even bothered with a date. Women just weren’t a big priority in his life. Never had been. Until now.

He gritted his teeth and kept on working. When he ran the cotton over her hair, he noticed that the blood there and on her clothes had dried. If she’d been bleeding once, the flow had stopped.

Knowing she didn’t need an emergency room helped to calm him down. But then he suddenly found himself fighting off the desire to dig his fingers through luscious, intense-red strands of hair. He gritted his teeth and carefully brushed the glass away instead.

“That’s the best I can do,” he said at last. “Do you want help getting out of your clothes?”

“Excuse me?” Her hot-green eyes popped open.

Oh, man. He desperately tried to find something else to concentrate on until he could stop imagining her naked.

“You have to get out of those things so we can check you over for cuts,” he finally directed.

“I think I can handle it, thank you,” she told him with a wry smile. “But first I need to make a phone call, if you don’t mind.”

“No calls.” He went to the phone, ripped the cord from both the wall and the phone itself and stuffed the wiring into the pocket of his heavy jacket.

“Hey!” She started toward him with a murderous look in her eyes. “What’d you do that for?”

“Who do you need to call, Lainie? A boyfriend?” That wasn’t what he’d meant to ask, he chided himself. What business of his was it if she had a boyfriend?

“No. I don’t have a boyfriend. I stay too busy for such things.” She made a sudden move to grab his arm. “It’s my sister. I have to know if Suzy is all right.” A horrified look spread across her face. “I’ve just realized…if this isn’t my blood, it must be hers. I never should’ve left her there.”

“You didn’t leave her. I took you. The shooting was directed at you, not her. With all the madhouse there, the only way to make sure no one else caught another bullet meant for you was to remove you from the scene.”

Once more he searched his pockets for the mobile phone. “Take a shower and check for any nicks that might need attention. I’m going outside to phone the captain again, let him know you’re not in any immediate danger. I’ll ask about your sister.”

Then, without really knowing why it seemed so important, Sloan searched for a way to take the fearful expression from her face and to calm the near-hysterical sound of her voice.

“Why the hell didn’t you stay in your office and wait for me like you were told?” he asked with a pretend snarl. “Anyone with half a brain would know not to stand out in the open and in such a public place while they were being stalked and threatened.”

That remark seemed to do what he’d intended. Instead of fear, anger sparked across Lainie’s features.

She narrowed darkened emerald eyes at him and propped her hands on her hips. “So I should’ve cowered in my office, waiting for some big-shouldered man to come save me? Is that what you’re saying?”

He’d hoped she had a temper, and it sure looked like he’d been right. The red hair was a dead giveaway.

“Look, lady. From now until we catch the guy, you will do exactly as I say. No more waltzing around in plain view. I’m here to see to it you stay alive.” He waited for the fire to reach her eyes again. “Now be a good girl and get those clothes off.”

She took a menacing step in his direction and clenched her fists. The lights in her eyes were stunning, and for just a moment he was paralyzed with need. He should have thought of what this diversion might do to him.

Instead of hanging around, though, Sloan made a strategic retreat from the motel room. He was out of there quicker than a brushfire could burn through a parched field. And he didn’t take another breath until he was in the parking lot and away from the temptation of all that passionate heat.

Not once in his entire career had he considered that he might become anyone’s bodyguard. In fact, he wouldn’t be doing it now except that the man he most respected in the world had asked him as a personal favor. He should be out of state, fulfilling a deathbed wish with this leave of absence from the Rangers—not baby-sitting a fiery, hot-tempered woman.

Sloan fought his reaction to the flaming lust Lainie’s anger had brought out in him. Gulping down the last remnants of desire, he swore under his breath.

The assignment to protect Lainie Gardner’s body might just turn out to be a lot more difficult than he’d ever imagined.

Two

Sick to her stomach and madder than all get-out, Lainie tossed a string of bad words toward the back of the motel room door as it closed behind Sloan. Being angry at him was the only way she could survive her conflicting emotions.

She hardly ever used curse words, however. And she had no idea where she’d learned a few of the ones she’d just thrown out. What was the matter with her?

Yes, she was scared beyond all reason, and near hysterical at the thought that her sister might be injured—or worse. But none of that accounted for the lust she’d felt as Sloan stood there with that teasing grin on his face. The flashes of heat and weakness his look created pushed pure old-fashioned desire trembling down her spine. The anger had actually turned her on.

She was mad again just thinking about it. How stupid could one supposedly smart woman be?

Her shakes started once more. She felt them move up her wobbly legs and spread across her body. Good grief.

Was her body betraying her need for Sloan? She prayed that her reaction to him was just some weird kind of delayed stress related to her crazy predicament.

Desperately wanting to regain the control and determination she’d become famous for, Lainie fought her own emotions. She was always in charge of every situation and this one should be no different. The danger was over. It was time to start thinking instead of feeling.

And all she could think of was the arousal in Sloan’s chestnut-colored eyes as he’d headed out the door? Oh dear Lord, help her. The stress must be driving her totally insane.

Lainie wasn’t the kind of woman who was normally disgusted by the thought of good healthy sex. Far from it. She’d had a couple of great experiences with that very thing in her checkered youth. But that was long ago. Besides that, she simply did not jump into bed with total strangers—not even ones who’d just saved her life.

Struggling to even out her ragged breathing, she ordered herself to stop all this idiotic emotional stuff and to start thinking. Just close her eyes, clear her mind and rationally consider her options.

When she finally managed to close her eyes for a few seconds, they popped right back open as the shaking began again. Instead of waiting for the trembling to stop this time, she focused on her surroundings, and the reality of the room hit her with a sickening rush. It stopped the shakes but gave her a headache instead. What a truly awful place to pick to hide.

Using her vivid imagination, she could tell that forty or fifty years ago these furnishings might’ve been someone’s idea of fashionable. The avocado walls, gold carpeting and dreadful flower-print bedspread looked as if they’d seen much better days.

A cheap chair, a metal rack with two wire hangers and a TV set with an old-fashioned rabbit-ears antenna were the only items besides the bed in this cramped room. The place smelled of stale cigarettes. And the heavy rubber-backed drapes over the one lone window contributed to a depressing atmosphere.

Lainie checked the bathroom and found two plastic cups wrapped in little paper jackets, a green-glass ashtray and the smallest bar of soap she’d ever seen. All of it had been crammed onto the edge of a single cracked sink.

Two yellowed towels sat folded on the back of the toilet, while the plastic shower curtain hung crookedly off its metal rings. Boy oh boy. The lap of luxury.

As much as she hated the thought of stripping down in this joint, she hated the idea of having glass slivers embedded in her skin even more. With a careful sigh, Lainie grabbed a towel and fitted it over her hair. The tiny thing wasn’t big enough to cover her head, but it would have to do while she took off her clothes and stepped into the shower.

Sloan balanced the two soda cans in one hand while he pulled the motel room key from his pocket with the other. He carefully inserted the key in the lock and waited for either the chain to stop him or for a heavy object to come flying at his head. Neither thing happened, so he pushed the door open and walked into the room.

He’d given her a full half hour, hoping that she’d use the time to calm down and take a shower. Actually, the idea of a cold shower had sounded pretty good to him when he’d last walked out of here.

The bathroom door stood ajar and he could hear the water running. Guess she’d decided a long, cold shower was just what she’d needed, too.

“Lainie! It’s me,” he called out, hoping not to frighten her.

“Wait. Hold on.”

After a few seconds the water stopped. She appeared in the bathroom doorway. And suddenly he couldn’t have moved if his life depended upon it.

Her hair had darkened with wetness and hung down to her shoulders, dripping water over her bare skin—all of that totally naked, glistening skin.

She’d apparently just stepped out of the shower, because she stood there looking up at him with an exasperated look on her face. And nothing to cover her nakedness except a postage-stamp-size towel that she was trying to spread out over her important parts.

He let his gaze shoot down her body to the long, slender legs and nearly bit his tongue. Dang, but he’d surely love to be able to touch all that soft skin. It was everything he could do just to drag his eyes back up to meet hers.

“Uh…” he stuttered. “Sorry. I thought you’d be out of the shower long ago. I can go away and come back in later.” That was…if he could force his legs to propel him out the door.

Lainie shook her head. “It won’t help. My clothes had so many specks of glass that I decided to rinse them out in the tub.” The edge of the towel slipped as she talked and she was forced to hang on with both hands. “But I’ve just realized that it’ll be tomorrow before they’re dry enough to put back on. What am I going to do?”

He could think of about a half-dozen things that she could do while she waited. And every single one of them involved him—and most of them involved the bed.

But she looked so forlorn, so annoyed with herself, that he felt a grin coming on. Sloan opened his mouth to make a smart remark but the irritated look in her eyes pulled him up short. She was the subject of his mission, not the object of his desire. And he’d better start treating her that way.

“Did you try wrapping up in the bedspread?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s too heavy. I couldn’t walk with it around me. Think of something else.”

“I have a raincoat out in the truck that’ll cover you up. It won’t be high fashion, but I suppose it’ll do.”

For a second he got lost in those startling green eyes again. He wondered if he could make them turn as dark as they’d been when she’d been so angry before. Would passion turn them that same depthless color?

“Yes, a raincoat would be great. Thanks.” Her glittering eyes scrunched up in thought. “What did you find out about my sister?” she demanded, dragging him back to earth with a thunk.

“Captain Johnson says she’s been taken to the hospital. He knows she’s going to be all right, but he isn’t sure how badly she’s been hurt. He’ll check it out and get back to us later.”

“Okay.” Lainie’s breath hitched as though she’d cut off a little sob. “She’s really going to be okay? Thank God.”

Lainie looked so forlorn and anguished standing there with nothing on and water dripping off her hair. The sight of her like that did things to him that he didn’t understand. It wasn’t pure lust, but what it really was eluded him at the moment.

He turned to leave, then looked down at the cans in his hands. “Are you thirsty? I brought you a soda,” he told her as he turned back.

“Oh, yes, please.” Her voice was tentative and her eyes still held that haunted look.

For one brief second he considered taking her in his arms and giving her all the protection and comfort she so obviously needed. But that wouldn’t be professional. And right now he desperately needed to maintain an air of professionalism.

Dignity. That’s what the situation called for. Remember the Rangers. Remember duty.

Sloan set both cans on the bed and was back out the door before she could move her first muscle. He retrieved his old black raincoat from the pickup and then counted to one hundred. Not that he needed the time to gather his wits. No indeed. He’d simply wanted to give her back a little of her own dignity for a few minutes.

When he finally reentered the room, he found that she’d left the bathroom door cracked open a few inches and was nowhere to be seen. Smart lady.

“Here’s the coat,” he mumbled. He shoved the raincoat through the opening while he turned his head away.

He felt her grab for it and then heard the door slam shut. One minute later Lainie sauntered out.

The beat-up old duster had never looked so good. It usually hit him at about knee length, but on her it dangled just above the ankles. She’d buttoned it up all the way and had the belt snugly tied around her middle.

“Thanks again. That’s better,” she said as she rolled up the sleeves. “And thanks for the soda, too. I didn’t realize how dry my throat was.”

“You’re welcome. Are you hungry? There’s a café a half mile down the road that we can take a chance on if you’d like.” He hadn’t given any consideration to her comfort since this whole thing began.

Some bodyguard he made. Her physical needs were every bit as important to her survival as was keeping her safe from outside threats. Starving both of them wouldn’t exactly get him a commendation from the captain.

Instead of answering him, Lainie covered her face with her hand. “I can’t think of food,” she moaned, and plopped down on the bed. “I can’t think of anything but Suzy. What have I done to my sister?”

He couldn’t bear to see such a strong, competent woman dissolve like this. Sitting down beside her, he slid an arm around her shoulders and drew her close.

“I told you before, you didn’t do any of this. You weren’t the one aiming bullets toward a lobby full of people. I doubt that you wanted any of this to happen. Did you?”

She glanced up at him with a wretched look of self-pity in her eyes. “No, of course not. But I should’ve paid more attention to the threats. I should’ve waited in my office for you to arrive. It’s my fault that she was standing next to me in front of those windows.”

The guilt he heard when she spoke nearly did him in. “Easy, there. Life can be chock-full of should’ves, you know. Blaming yourself is useless. It won’t bring you any peace or change the outcome one bit. And it only buys you more heartache.”

Lainie heard the pain in the quiet tone of Sloan’s voice. It made her wonder what had happened in his life that he would change if only he had a second chance.

She gazed into his eyes just in time to catch the sad look he quickly hid again. He’d never talk to her about his troubles, she knew. But that was what she did for a living. Listening and giving advice.

Deciding not to ask any personal questions until she knew him better, Lainie moved out of his embrace. “Can I see Suzy? Will you take me to the hospital?”

He slowly shook his head. “Sorry. The captain said for us to lay low tonight. Even if we knew where they’d taken your sister, it would be too risky. The hospital would be too open, too predictable.”

“You mean someone might try to kill me there? This…this person would be at the hospital waiting for us?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“Who did this? Who wanted to hurt me this badly?”

“Both of those are great questions,” he told her as he stood and stretched. “Can we discuss them while we’re getting something to eat?”

She bit back sudden irritation. After all, he wasn’t a family member who cared what she thought. He was merely her bodyguard. She didn’t mean anything to him, so why should he help her figure out who the stalker might be?

“Okay,” she agreed finally. “I guess I could choke down a salad.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and let his gaze slowly wander from her soaking-wet hair all the way down to her bare feet.

“We’ll be on foot. We can’t take a chance of being spotted in the truck tonight. So you’d better put on your shoes, Ms. Gardner.” The grin broke out across his face again. “But don’t count on a salad in this part of town. You’re probably going to have to settle for a burger.”

A half hour later Lainie sat huddled with his raincoat pulled tightly around her. Her feet, stuffed into two-inch heels with no nylons, were neatly stashed under a plastic-covered booth in a dimly lit Mexican café.

She was trying to decide whether to order a taco salad or a plate of enchiladas. She’d already gulped down a tall glass of sweetened iced tea and was just about to polish off an entire basketful of tortilla chips.

“I thought you wanted a salad?” Sloan grumbled from his spot across the table. “We walked two extra blocks out of our way to find this place. Just order the salad and be done with it.”

He’d already placed his order with the waitress. Now, looking rather impatient, he waited for her to make a decision.

Lainie dipped the last chip into the tomato salsa and ordered the enchiladas. Since Captain Johnson returned their call to say that Suzy was still in the hospital but in good condition, Lainie’s appetite had returned with a vengeance.

Sloan relaxed back against the faded-brown bench and flipped his hat onto the seat next to him. The dim lighting in the restaurant didn’t afford much of a view, but she could manage to see that his hair was the same color as his eyes. A warm brown with golden highlights, it was neatly cut, but one stray strand hung down across his forehead.

He brushed back the wayward hair, and Lainie cautioned herself not to sigh aloud. She wondered whether it would feel as soft and silky as the mink coat it resembled. She managed to blink away the questions.

“We’ve got ourselves a problem here,” Sloan drawled.

Lainie wondered if he realized exactly how big a problem it was for her every time he smiled, and she found herself yearning to place a kiss on the dimple in his chin.

“You mean something other than dodging bullets from the sniper’s gun?” she asked, instead of saying what she thought.

“You’ve got a smart mouth, you know that?” He grinned and took a swig from the long-neck beer bottle that the waitress had just put in front of him.

“Well, excuse me, but I’m not exactly feeling too polite at the moment. I’m tired and irritable. My sister is in the hospital because of me. And I’m sitting here in a heavy raincoat that’s so big it’s falling off my shoulders, wondering whether this may be my last meal.” Her eyes glittered with sparkling green anger.

Sloan thought she was really something special. What other woman would react to being shot at by becoming mad and irritable? He knew most of them would’ve dissolved into a quivering mass of nervous hysterics by now.

But he wasn’t about to mention his admiration to Lainie. “Things could be worse,” he mumbled.

“Oh, really?”

He looked past her to the picture of a bullfighter on the wall. “At least you have people who are worried about you and who would care if you lived or died.”

She opened her mouth to make a remark, but the waitress brought the food just then. Before the plates could be arranged on the table in front of them, they both dug in without another word.

It wasn’t long until Sloan polished off the last flour tortilla and signaled the waitress to bring another beer. “You’re not going to be able to go back home for a while, you know.”

Her eyes widened and she swallowed her last bite of food with a cough. “What? Why not?”

“It won’t be possible to provide you with adequate protection if you just go blithely back to your old routine. After you give your statement to the police detectives, you and I will have to disappear.” He watched as she picked up her fork and squeezed her fingers in a death grip around the handle. “This might be a good time to consider a mini vacation. Someplace where no one will recognize your face.”

“I have to work. With my sister in the hospital, someone needs to do the columns. I have contracts to fulfill and people who are desperate for my advice.”

“Your sister writes the columns?”

“I give the advice, she makes sure it appears in the column the way I intended.”

“I heard somewhere that columnists usually have a couple of weeks worth of columns stashed away for emergencies. What if you were taken ill or had to take some time off for other personal reasons?”

She slid down on the booth’s bench. “I do have a few backup columns. But still, without Suzy I will have to make sure they get turned in and are set the way we expect them to be.”

“Could you give someone else instructions on where to find your files and then check to make sure it’s done properly by using a computer and the Internet?”

She grimaced, heaving a sigh. “I suppose. But…”

“Great. One problem solved,” he interrupted. “We’ll have the captain rig up a laptop for us, and he can send a secretary to your office for your files.” He tipped his beer for a fast sip before he quickly plowed ahead. “Now, the next problem is finding a place to hide out.”

“If this is a vacation, why don’t we just go to a five-star resort somewhere?” she asked as she munched on the tip of her iced tea straw. “I’ve been meaning to try that new place I’ve heard so much about on the Big Island in Hawaii. Why don’t we go there?”

He stopped the chuckle before it escaped his lips. “I don’t think Captain Johnson would be able to afford it, for one thing. And for another, we need to find a place where no one will recognize you, remember?” He was trying to keep the fear out of her eyes.

She ignored his question and honed in on the cost. “Why would Captain Johnson have to pay for it? I’ve got money. We can just put it on my credit card.”

Sloan shook his head and tried to keep the exasperated expression from his face. “Well, that might make some sense…if you had your wallet and credit cards with you. And if—”

“My purse! I forgot I dropped my purse when the shooting started.” The panicked look was back in her eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’m sure the detectives have found it by now. And you can’t use the cards, anyway. Credit card charges are one of the easiest things to trace. From now on we’re strictly on a cash basis.”

Her eyes clouded over and he was fascinated by the muddy-river green color they had become. But she didn’t seem to have much else to say on the subject of how they paid for their getaway. He was grateful he’d remembered to bring along a few hundred in cash.

“One of my buddies in the Rangers has a cabin somewhere in the hill country,” Sloan mentioned, trying to sound casual. “He’s got it up for sale, but I don’t think he’d mind if we used it for a few days. What do you think?” He knew she must be feeling as if her world had tilted on its axis.

“I suppose so.” Lainie sounded so tentative that Sloan wanted to find a way to put the strength back in her voice.

“I’ll call him later and arrange it. Meanwhile…” Sloan hesitated, but in the end decided that even her anger had been better than this forlorn look. “Let’s go on back to our room and get some sleep.”

“Our room?” she yelped. “You think we’re both going to sleep in that tiny cubbyhole? Fat chance, buster.”

A flashdance of anger burned in her eyes, and Sloan breathed a silent sigh of relief that the spark was back. “Well, tell you what, sweetheart. If you don’t want to stay there, and since you don’t have any cash on you, I’ll be glad to give you the use of my truck for the night.

“The passenger seat reclines,” he continued as he covertly surveyed her reactions. “It shouldn’t be too uncomfortable for one night. But it might turn cold later on. Sure hope you don’t freeze.”

It was a thrill to see the bright pink flush of frustration spread across her features. She straightened her back and scowled.

So what if that look could burn a hole right through a steel door? At least her spirit was intact.

Her eyes narrowed to little slits when he didn’t make any other remarks and simply flagged the waitress to request the bill.

“All right,” she grumbled. “We can both stay in that little cave if you insist. But you’d better be praying that the bathtub is more comfortable than it looks, cause that’s where you’re headed. There’s no chance in the world that we’re both going to be sleeping in the same bed tonight.”

Three

“So what’s your plan for the night?” Lainie asked. They’d just locked themselves firmly inside the cheap motel room once again. “Where do you intend to sleep?”

Sloan sat down and stretched out companionably on the double bed, his body fully extended and his head propped up against the wall behind it. “The bed isn’t half-bad.” He patted the narrow spot next to him. “Try it out for yourself.”

The look on her face was priceless, Sloan mused. He loved it when he got to her, and he wondered why that was.

Since she continued to stand there, staring down at the ugly bedspread as if it were a rattler pit, he decided to try a different tack. “Look. It’s early yet. Why don’t you sit and tell me about your job? Maybe together we can come up with a reason why someone wants to kill you.” He pushed the lone pillow up against the wall for her.

When she tentatively checked to make sure the top button of his raincoat was securely fastened at her neck before she sat on the bed, it was all Sloan could do to keep a straight face. But he refused to laugh. He was feeling unsure enough about his own motives, let alone hers.

She settled in as far away from him as physically possible. “Maybe you’re right. I’m still too tense to sleep, anyway.”

He allowed himself a half smile, while she took off her shoes and daintily dropped them on the floor.

“Okay.” She wiggled her bottom down into the mattress until she’d apparently nestled herself into a more comfortable position. “That’s better. What do you want to know?”

“Well,” he began as he toed his boots off, “I thought maybe you’d just start talking. You know, tell me about how a normal day goes, what kind of letters you receive, that sort of thing.” He reached over, wanting to flick a tiny, lingering crumb off her chin, but quickly caught himself.

“Oh, but that’s so boring,” she sighed. “Are you sure hearing about that stuff might help?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “You never know. What else have we got to do?”

The minute he said it, the visions of what else he’d like to be doing in this bed blindsided him. But if Lainie noticed the change, she didn’t mention it.

“My day always starts at six-thirty. Suzy and I jog every morning. It gets the blood moving.”

“Your sister lives with you?” He eased his body around slightly and tried to concentrate on her words, but shifting his focus didn’t do much to change the tension.

She looked startled for a second. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t know about my family.”

“Captain Johnson just told me that you were a single woman and that your mother was a longtime, dear friend of his. I assumed you either lived alone or with your mother.”

Lainie smiled then and folded her hands in her lap. “I sort of do both…live alone and also live with my family, that is. A few years back, I bought a big house in a fancy Houston suburb. It’s an old place and has a good-size guest house right on the grounds. I bought it with the idea in mind of letting my sister and her husband use the guest house.”

She frowned at a large crack in the wall directly in front of the bed. “But when it came time for us to move in, I realized that the two of them would be much more comfortable in the bigger place. So…”

“You moved into the guest house,” he said with a yawn.

“Yes, but it wasn’t a hardship. The smaller house is so cozy. It’s just perfect for my needs. And Jeff, he’s my brother-in-law, loves to entertain and have big parties. Someday, the two of them might have a bunch of kids, too, and the living arrangements have all worked out for the best. Without family nearby, a person is no one.”

“But you own both houses?”

“Sure. In fact, a year or so ago I bought a neighboring house when the old woman who lived there passed away. It was a good thing, too. My father had a stroke a few months later, so I insisted that he and Mom move in next door so I could keep an eye on them.” She inclined her head. “I suppose you could say we live in a family compound.”

Sloan could not imagine anything worse. The thought of having people—meddling family members especially—underfoot all the time gave him the creeps.

“Sounds real cozy,” he said, using her words and with a grin he didn’t feel. “So your father is still alive. Does he work?”

“He’s totally disabled. Confined to a wheelchair,” she said sadly.

“And your brother-in-law…what does he do for a living?”

Lainie studied her toes. “Well, Jeff runs my father’s bar now. It’s not much of a living, though. The place is only open a few hours a day, except on weekends. Mom keeps the books, but it never has been much of a moneymaker.”

Sloan got the picture. Lainie seemed to be the sole support for the whole clan. He wondered if she realized how much friction could arise between family members when one strong person ruled the purse strings. As a lawman he’d seen that kind of thing happen often enough.

“Hmm. Let me get this straight in my head,” he began. “All of your immediate family lives in housing that you own and no doubt provide free of charge.”

“I couldn’t ask my family to pay me.”

“Uh-huh. And you are the one person in the family who is gainfully employed.”

“My sister works hard in her job at the paper.”

“I’m sure she does. But you’re her boss, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“So without you, what would become of the rest of the family?”

Those great green eyes widened and she twisted the edge of the bedspread around in her fingers. “I’ve provided for them in my will, of course. And I imagine that Suzy could keep the column going for quite a while if I were ill. I’ve been letting her write a few of the columns so she could get the practice.”

“Seems to me that the whole bunch of them ought to be real concerned over your welfare.”

“That’s not fair.” She stood up and began pacing from the bed to the door and back. “They’re my family. All families have a few problems, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love each other.” She stopped and held her palm out, pleading for him to understand. “You must know how it is. Family is the most important thing in the world. You probably have a few family problems of your own. Everyone does.”

His silence told Lainie a lot about the man. There was something about his family that bothered him.

Finally he shook his head. “Don’t have a family,” he muttered.

“None? No wife…or ex-wife…and kids?”

He scowled. “Never been married.”

“But surely you must have parents. Were you orphaned at an early age or something?” She sat down on the edge of the bed and studied him again.

“Nope. Had a mother…up until December fifteenth.”

“Your mother just passed away three months ago?” She gulped, wondering how she’d gotten herself into such a stupid conversation in the first place. “I’m so sorry, Sloan. Were you two very close?”

His eyes turned dark and he looked away. “Not really. I didn’t get back to visit her much. It’d been maybe six years or so since the last time.”

From the sound of his voice, she wondered if he’d even had a chance to speak to his mother before her death. In her typical prying way, Lainie couldn’t stand not asking.

“Uh…maybe this isn’t any of my business, but were you two estranged over something? Many of my advice columns touch on the guilt people feel after the death of a family member. The worst is when they’d never gotten the chance to reconcile their problems, and all of a sudden it’s too late.”

It was Sloan’s turn to stand. He took off the denim jacket, and for the first time Lainie saw the gun stuck in a holster at his waistband. The sight of it put a cold damper on the hot lust she’d begun to feel at the sight of his tight, muscular butt encased in superslim jeans.

“You’re right,” he said over his shoulder as he hung up the jacket and unknotted his tie. “It’s none of your business.”

That put her in her place. She should’ve known better than to try to befriend an uptight, close-mouthed lawman. Well, fine.

“I have an overnight kit in the truck,” he told her as he removed the holster and checked the gun. “Do you want me to rustle up some toothpaste and stuff for you to use? You could sleep in one of my T-shirts, if you like. That would probably be more comfortable than the heavy old raincoat.” He pulled off the Ranger’s badge and laid it down on top of the television with his gun.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she huffed. “Not in anything.”

“Suit yourself.” He undid his belt, pulled it through the loops and hung it over the metal rod. “Mind if I turn on the TV, then? I sleep better with a little noise.”

“You can honestly think of sleeping at a time like this?”

“I’m tired. You’d be smart to try catching a few zees yourself.” His voice was edgy and not at all as sexy as it had been earlier. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow,” he continued as he flipped on the set and sat back down on his side of the bed.

She folded her arms over her chest and prepared to tell him exactly what she expected of him tomorrow. But for a second she was distracted by the local news and the eerie pictures of her office building with the front lobby windows blown out.

When she turned back to say something, he was already out cold. She couldn’t believe he’d become unconscious that fast. He’d better not snore.

Lainie got up and went to the bathroom, flipping off the overhead light on her way. When she was done, she left the bathroom door slightly ajar so the light in there could act as a nightlight.

She settled back down on her edge of the tiny bed and prayed the big lummox sleeping next to her didn’t roll around in his sleep. She’d hate to have to fight him off during the night. And there was no place else in the room for her to watch TV.

Frowning at the screen, where a late-night talk-show host was beginning his stand-up routine, she tried to ignore Sloan’s reclining body while she considered her options. The trouble was, she didn’t seem to have any options at all.

The longer she fumed over her predicament, the heavier her eyelids became. But she wasn’t going to lose control and fall asleep. No way. She intended to stay up, watching TV and keeping an eye on the very masculine body in her bed.

Sloan woke up with a cramp in his shoulder. He tried to move, but found himself wrapped up in long legs and soft female curves. Lainie’s head rested comfortably against his shoulder, and her peaceful expression in repose seemed a little too quiet, a little too angelic to suit him.

He took a breath and smelled woman, musty raincoat and a hint of soap. Her languid, slow breathing was intimate, familiar. Yet it was not at all like anything he’d ever shared with anyone.

He’d never slept all night with a woman before. The morning-after routine had always sounded too nerve-racking and embarrassing for his style. Why mess up a night of pleasure with the aggravation of trying to find a polite way out?

But there was just something about sleeping with Lainie that soothed him. Who would’ve guessed that an annoying yet lust-inspiring woman would be the one to make him feel all comfortable and homey?

Before he thought about it too much, Sloan brushed his hand over her sleep-tousled hair, pushing it back behind her ear. Deep-red silk. The satiny-soft feel of her seemed in stark contrast to the strong spirit and sexy brashness he knew she possessed.

His blood stirred and he had to remind himself that she was under his protection. She was quite a woman—a family-loving, advice-giving dream girl. And it was too damned bad that they hadn’t met at another time.

Speaking of time, Sloan glanced at his watch and realized that dawn was near. Time to check in with the captain and finalize plans to hide this erotic and baffling female.

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